Darkness in the Twilight
by C. Selene Belle
Summary: A multitude of events surrounding the aftermath of the Schezar family reuniting, for the sins committed by the beautiful siblings must eventually be punished. Complete Story.
1. The Riots

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**The Riots - Darkness**

          Everyone expected some sort of uprising in the city. People were angry. They were hungry. The King Aston had been falling further into age and grew senile and decrepit. It was a strange day, indeed, when the captain of the guard summoned Asturia's Regiment to block the gates to the palace, the twelve Knight's Caeli in front of the line of guards, all with swords drawn and idle. The crowd was stirring. It was a mighty crowd of commoners, with angry voices that shouted curses to the noble knights. Rotten fruits and vegetables were thrown against their fine blue uniforms, marring the leather and silk, but still they stood. 

The attack had been expected, but not the violence of it. Hundreds of people rushed to the closed iron gates at once, pushing the knights in their struggle to gain the King's mercy. But if they would not have his mercy, than they would have his death. The knights and the guards were overwhelmed by people, all of whom held primitive weapons, clubs, pitchforks. Many knights were struck down, and the rest needed to drag them behind the gates to safety. There was no peace here. The crowd was relentless and fought against the gates as they closed behind the last knight dragging his blond-haired comrade. 

           It would be hours before Celena heard any word from her brother, having waited endlessly all day in their stuffy, boring manor. She knew of his duty, but not of its severity. At first, she'd been relieved to hear hoofbeats upon the cobblestone of their court yard. She looked out the window and saw, instead of her brother a-horse, a carriage was driven by Allen's second in command. She watched from behind the dark curtains as he leapt hastily from the driver's seat, another soldier stepping out of the carriage, before both men brought her brother out, limp and bloodied in their arms. His beautiful uniform was sullied and stained with his blood and smashed fruits. 

 Terrified, she ran to the door and threw it open. "What's happened?!" she called out to Gaddes.

Gaddes panted, the long, hard ride to get away from the riot, as well as the anxiety itself, exhausting him.  Yet another injury Allen had sustained and again it had them all worried.  

"Rather selfish of him to get himself injured like that all over again."  Gaddes' words were gruff, but tense.  He was worried, it was obvious.  The man with him helped Gaddes shuffle the blonde inside, settling him on the first couch they found.  Later he would be taken away, taken to his bedroom, but for now...

          "The people... they rioted.  The knights, no one could hold them back!  They... we saw it all, Miss Celena, all of it.  We got to him as fast as we could when we saw him fall and brought him back here."  

          Allen's breathing was soft, shallow, his narrow chest rising and falling dangerously beneath the stained cloth of his normally pristine uniform.  There seemed to be blood everywhere, though not all of it was his own.  One of his fellow knights had fallen beneath a nasty blow that had left no one around him clean.  Later, he would be mourned.  Parts of the lovely uniform were torn, revealing a few scattered scratches and smudges of dirt and blood and food against the pale flesh beneath.  Long blonde hair had been streaked with blood and fruit, presumably when he'd fallen beneath one or another's blows.

          But the worst of the wounds were the gashes at his eyes, a lucky strike someone had made with a crude, but efficient, dirk.  Blood already beginning to dry smattered against the pale skin, making the wound itself difficult to pick out.  And at his side, another lucky shot, a deep gouge made by something of a pitchfork.  Thankfully for Allen, the wielder had been unskilled and had fallen off balance.

          Even with his skill with a blade, his finesse and easy efficiency in battle, Allen couldn't take on a mob.  Especially not an angry, desperate, starving mob.

"This is madness!" cried Celena, mostly to herself. She looked down at her brother in horror, her eyes daring over every injury, every soil of his clothes. He would need a healer, but she supposed there was none to be sustained at such a moment of turmoil in their fair port city of Palas. Celena was no healer, but she knew urgency - she knew her brother needed help, and needed to be eased of his pain. 

          As she loomed over his prone form, she looked to Gaddes. "We need to clean his wounds." she said desperately to the first officer. "How badly is he hurt?"

Gaddes shook his head slightly a little frown on his lips.  "We're not terribly sure.  We haven't checked him out yet.  We just wanted to get him away from there.  It's bad enough that if we leave him alone, he'll.... well, he'll get worse," he finished quickly.  He didn't want to say it in front of her and, well... he didn't want to say it at all.  Allen was a respected man and the chance that they'd lose him... Gaddes had experienced that enough to have his fill of it.  

          Sending the other soldier off with directions through the manor he knew very well, Gaddes sighed, resting his hands on his hips, staring down at Allen.  Well, at least he was still breathing, no matter how shallowly.  

          The other man returned shortly with a bowl of cool water and a cloth he'd gotten from one of the servants who'd huddled in the doorway, handing them off to Gaddes, who knelt beside Allen, his face drawn and worried.  "Don't you cut out on me," he whispered softly, forcing the trembles out of his hands as he peeled off the coat and shirt, setting the empty sword belt aside.  In their panic, they'd left his blade.  

          He could only hope it wouldn't be the one to slay the king... or any other soldiers there.

          Gaddes sat back a moment to survey the damage, then carefully went about cleaning the blood from Allen's skin with quiet proficiency, wary of nudging the wounds.  When it was done, he sat back, frowning.  "We'll need to bandage him and send for a healer later.  There's not much we can do for him..."

Celena could only nod, as she was helpless to do anything of value and had yet to find her niche in their high society of Asturia. With her unconscious brother half-stripped down to his trousers, they were able to clean the offending wounds. Gaddes pressed linen clothes to the puncture on Allen's side, watching as they were quickly seeped with the knight's life blood and had to press harder. Meanwhile, Celena tried to clean Allen's face.

          It was a horrible mess of crimson, now dry and matted with his hair on his face. His eyes seemed to have taken the worse of the battle, rimmed in blood. Some violent, crazed person had tried to press his eyes in, it seemed, gouging at them and now -- oh, by the gods, she could only hope her dear, sweet brother was not blinded by such a cruel act of madness.

          "This is madness," she whispered again to herself, "What is happening in our country. Our fair city is being devastated by rage and torment. All because the populous have nothing to eat. Someone must speak of this to the king! Surely he would have the power to end this . . . this anger!"

"We have tried, Miss Celena," came Gaddes'  quiet, calm reply.  Too calm.  He was too calm.  He wasn't sure what was going to happen to Allen and he wasn't letting himself think about it.  Not now.  Not when Allen needed him to help him, not when Allen's' life depended on them sustaining him until they could get a healer.  

          Gaddes was pretty sure his eyes were torn, his vision shot, at least in one eye.  He was no cleric, he did not know of such things.  If only Millerna had been there.  She might have had more of an idea than he.  But he didn't let it deter him.  Eventually getting the bleeding to slow, the man wrapped bandages about the blonde's abdomen and then, as well, over his face, gently, but tightly and firmly, around the nasty wounds at his eyes.

          Gaddes' heart rammed into his chest as he worried and fretted, a frown tugging on his tanned lips.  If Allen... if he...

          No.  He couldn't think like that.  Not right now.

Once the bandages were applied, the wounds cleaned, Celena bade them to take Allen upstairs to his chamber bed. Gaddes and the other soldier settled him gently into the soft mattress filled with down, his long body sinking comfortably and his head propped upon equally soft pillows. There he rested until the following morning.

          Celena had not let any maid touch her brother's precious uniform, and set to cleaning it herself in their manor's laundry room. Gaddes and the other soldier, whom she discovered was called Jasil, were staying to keep an eye on things about the manor while their commander rested. Jasil was called away to the city later that day, but Gaddes stubbornly stayed behind. Celena was hard at work, taking the blue leather of the Caeli uniform and scrubbing at the stains with a hard brush. 

          Occasionally, her eyes would drift to the door of the little crackled room, peering through the hanging wet bed sheets, waiting for Gaddes to tell her that her brother was awake so that she could tend to him. Her hands were wrinkled and sore from cleaning, and she could have used Allen's waking as an excuse to break for the day.

It was late afternoon when Gaddes shuffled out, looking exhausted beyond belief, but relieved.  "He's semi-awake.  He can understand us, but he won't be much for fancy words, I'm afraid."  Even still, the hint of a grin on his lips revealed that he had high hopes for the commander.  

          Allen had tried to sit up, but Gaddes had gently forced him back down.  Allen was grateful.  It hurt to move, his entire body ached from stress and healing.  He's panicked at first when he couldn't see, but Gaddes reassured him that he'd be fine, that it was just bandages, that he was healing.  The blonde seemed satisfied with the answer.  Stretched out on the spacious bed, with Gaddes off to let Celena know of his awakening, Allen was left alone to ponder.

          They hadn't stood a chance.  Against an angry mob like that, even the most refined and disciplined group would have failed.  They had failed.  But the king and his daughters were safe, in the end, for now, and that was what mattered.

          It had been horrifying.  Men and women he had fought to save, faces he knew well... scrunched up in anger and hunger, bearing down upon him like some ravenous beast.  They were such.  Ravenous beasts, starving, hungry and fed up with being treated like rabble.  He'd heard one say he should have known better.

          Damn it... he should have.  He saw them as they wasted away and he could do nothing.

Upon hearing the news, Celena, of course, dropped everything and bounded up their old manor's stairs, her footsteps making a racket on their hardwood floors. She flew to Allen's side and there sat on his bed, gently, to take his searching hand and put it to her face. 

          "Dear Allen." she said tearfully, "Tell me how you're feeling. Are you still in pain, my brother?"

Allen turned his bandaged head towards his sister's approach, hearing the door softly shut as Gaddes left them to their own.  The blonde managed a weak little smile, still tired.  "Now that you are near?  Never."  

           A lie, but how could he tell her that his body and soul ached with pains he had not known before?

Tenderly, she kissed his hand, smiling under his fingertips so that he would know how happy he made her. It filled her heart with an odd sort of joy that she would be able to care for him this way, and hope still held a spot in her love for him that he would get well soon. 

          "I am glad," she said. She stood again and reached behind his head. "I'll need to change these bandages and put fresh ones on. Okay?" Even as she spoke, she'd begun to unravel the linen that bound his eyes. "The light is low in here, so it shouldn't be too bad for you. The damaged seemed superficial." The old bandages removed, she walked over to a drawer that held more freshly torn linen for the injured knight.

"You are too kind to me, Celena," he murmured, lifting his head in the slightest to give her an easier time changing the bandages.  Whether or not the light was low, he could not see it, and once more he had to quell the panic that rose in a flourish.

          They will heal and I will be fine.  I must be patient, is all.

          His wounds would not heal quickly he knew, if only from reference back to his earlier injuries, and from the feel of them.  The burn of pain shivered through his nerves when he shifted and he was forced to bite back a hiss of pain.  No, it would not do good to worry her more than she already was.  

For several days after that, she had come to his every pain and ache to soothe them and give him comfort. Tenderly, she cared for his wounds, relieved that his side was scabbing and not deep. It seemed the worst he had come out with was overwhelming exhaustion and shock. That is - aside from the injury he'd sustained to his eyes. The gashes around them we closing and did not bleed any longer. 

          It was two weeks that Celena had decided to take off the bandages around his fair head. She was, of course, filled with hope, unaware that he lied whenever she asked him if his sight was any better for that day. 

"How is it today?" she asked gently of him, removing the last of the bandages. She was loathe to admit that she would never be a good healer, and grew frustrated when there was no healer to be found in their failing city.

He was lucky that the wounds were not as deep as had originally been thought.  However, he did confide in Gaddes... his sight was not healing.  But Gaddes refused to admit that it wouldn't heal.  The commander was untouchable , right?

          "Better," he murmured.  While still weak, he was getting stronger.  Soon enough he'd force himself to be on his feet again.  Allen closed his eyes and felt for Celena's hand, clasping it lightly.  "with many thanks to you, Celena."

She brought her hand up to her lips in contemplation, holding his hand and gazing at him as he lay before her in his night clothes. Something came over and she had to force her hand away from his touch. Walking to the door, she said over her shoulder, her tone careful, "Follow me to the bathing room then, brother, so that we may wash that beautiful hair of yours."

A test, then.  Allen was up for the challenge and could only hope that his legs would hold under him.  The blonde stood shakily, flashes of dizziness passing over him.  Luckily, he knew his home well.  One hand held out from his side slightly to brush against the wall, to lead him as he walked.  He could feel the burn of muscles unused for weeks as they hurried to keep him moving and it was a reassurance.  He most certainly wouldn't die, at least.

          But she had to know, now.  He couldn't hide it from her this way.  Not if he had to use the wall for guidance.  It was a subtle thing, however, and could be passed off as being weak, but he wasn't sure she'd buy that.  She wasn't stupid, after all.  But even still, he took the chance, if only to keep up the ruse so she would worry less.

"You side still pains you," she said soothingly, but she did not move from the doorway. If anything, Celena moved further in the hall, still thinking and calculating. She watched him with grim determination and noted with a heavy heart that he did not open his eyes, those cornflower orbs of which he claimed have been healed in those two weeks they'd spent behind bandages.

"Slightly.  Though more so the ache from ne'er moving these past few weeks."  And his heart.  His heart ached, figuring out that he was blind, if only for a little while.  But they had no healer to ease him, no one to tell them how long it would take.  Gaddes was no medical expert and neither were the others that saw him.  His head slightly bowed as he walked, determined to get past this handicap, one hand braced against the wall as moved towards her.  Passing through the doorway, he was relieved.

          He had moved this far, he could go the rest of the way, surely.

"Then open your healed eyes, brother," she finally said blatantly to him, "and see the happiness you bring me." Celena waited patiently, watching her brother, and smiled for him. Her eyes were filled with worry, and her heart clenched as truth slowly began to etch into it like a cruel artistic rendition of the pains of man. Even so, she would think to herself, they would not let this beat them.

          She stood solidly in the hallway, her brother standing unsteadily next to her in his night robe. Could he hear her heart beat furiously in her chest, she wondered. Or feel it breaking as she witnessed his struggle?

She knew.  That was the first big hint of how much she'd known.  But for how long, he couldn't tell.  Shattered eyes opened, unseeing, turning his head towards her voice.  A struggle indeed.  Her knowing was as if he finally admitting it to himself.  At least for now, this was a battle he could not win.   

 He almost fell right there in agony.  How could this happen?  How, after all he had been through, could he be beaten by such a thing?  Anger at himself surged to the surface.  If he had paid more attention, surely he would be safe and his sister would not be burdened with this pain.  

"I'm sorry," he murmured, bowing his head, leaning against the wall.  Sorry for lying to her, sorry for causing her this pain in the first place.  She didn't deserve this, not after everything.

          Celena nearly fell against him, her smile gone, her brows furrowed with worry. Her hands cupped his face and she bore her gaze deeply into his eyes. 

"You can't see," she concluded breathlessly, "All this time you . . . Allen, you truly cannot see me?" But she knew that her one last shred of hope had been lost with his soft apology, with his slumped posture, with his expression of resignation and shame.

Allen miserably pulled his face out of her grasp, turning his sightless gaze elsewhere.  He said nothing, leaning against the wall, his shoulders slumped.  He had been defeated.  That was all that mattered for the moment.  He had been defeated and he hadn't been able to admit it until now.

           The blonde slid down the wall until he was sitting, bowing his head into his shaking hands.  He couldn't see... gods, he had committed sinful acts before, but was any of it enough for this?  What had he done to deserve it?

Celena only had a heart to comfort her brother. She ignored the tears that slid down her porcelain cheeks, and knelt by her fallen Allen. Her hands reached out to stroke his dampened golden tendrils, but they wanted to bring him to her bosom and hold him tights - as if by holding him, it would bring back that most precious thing of which he'd lost. It was still too soon to believe. She had hope in her heart that it would be just temporary.

           But two weeks is a long time, her heart cried to her, a long time for something so horrible. And who knew but a healer on how long this handicap would plague him. 

"Allen, it's okay," she found herself soothing him, her silver voice betrayed by the clench of tears, "We'll find you a healer. It will come back. You'll see again, brother. You'll see . . ."

          Allen shivered slightly, bowing his head against her.  He wanted to cry, but he couldn't.  He couldn't let himself. Allen shook his head, his shoulder's quivering slightly.  

"I can't... I can't see... I won't.... I won't ever, will I?"

"No!" she insisted, "That's not true. It will just take time." She tried to bring him up to his feet, taking his clammy hands into hers and gently pulling him. "Please, Allen. You need to bathe. I will help you."

Allen's shoulders were slumped, but the fight had left him for now and he didn't argue, walking along with her, guided by her.  He was glad he had her there... he wouldn't have been able to do all this on his own.  

The moment came to undress him, and even Celena's face burned with a heated blush as the last of Allen's robes slipped off down his shoulders. The look on his face told her that he, too, was embarrassed, but there was not much to be done. She fiercely tried to avert her eyes from the parts the most definitely made him a man. 

           The bath had already been drawn, warm water filled in a small wooden tub behind a decorative screen. Allen was so tall, that his legs were drawn up nearly to his chest as he sat in the water. Celena took a sponge and gently bathed him, talking to him softly so that she may calm his fears. He wouldn't admit it, she knew, but Celena could tell that her brother was scared of what he might face in his darkness.

           "You wound, on your side, is closing up nicely." she said to him softly, "Soon we will bring a healer to you, and they will tell us of your condition. Have no fear, I'll be by your side to help you."

"I can only hope that... that I'll be alright," he murmured softly, just the faintest tremble in his voice.  "That... that I'll be able to see."  Allen shivered slightly, pushing his embarrassment away.  "I want to be able to see your face again.  After so long of not seeing you..."

"Hush now," she said softly. Her tone was so grown up, like her brother's. Both Schezar children were young, Allen was only 23. Celena herself was barely 18. It took a certain amount of suffering to make one act so wise and reserved. Although sometimes, too much pain felt constricting. 

           "Tell me of the riot - the people. Is there anything being done about this injustice to them?"

"The king... he won't listen to us.  We have spoken to him on such matter, but he will do nothing.  He neglects his duties.  We attribute it to the illness, but we would say nothing."  Allen shook his head slightly, sighing a bit.

"Perhaps he will die soon," said Celena bitterly, "It is a small price for what he has done to the people, to his knights . . . to you, whom has served mostly loyally of all."

"Celena... he has shown me kindness... I... I cannot question his means of doing things.  I am simply a soldier, in the end, nothing more."

"Kindness?" She was angry suddenly, though she tried to retain the animosity she felt welling up inside of her. "There is no kindness in this. You are more than a simple soldier. You are Knight Caeli, one of only twelve in the royal regiment. By the gods, you are my brother first! I would be damned if I could not protect you from harm, though a soldier you may be. I love you more than they!"

Allen sighed softly.  "I thank you for your words, Celena... I... I don't know what I'd do if I lost you again.  You should be given more than what I can give you, and I'm sorry that I cannot give you what you deserve..."

The Schezar siblings spoke nothing more of the matter for the rest of the day. Once bathed and dressed simply in clean trousers and a loose shirt, Allen took to his chambers to rest. Celena, of course, hardly left his side, finding solace in reading to him or telling him about her days spent with herself. She really only left him to fetch him a meal. Oh, how her fragile heart broke when he needed to feel around the tray just to find a biscuit. Or how he knocked over the glass of sweet fruit juice as his hands fumbled.

           He was a proud, respectable warrior - one of the best swordsman in all of Gaea. Now, Allen was reduced to being helpless and frail, and full of deep weary sorrow. 


	2. Icarus

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Icarus**

It was many days later that a healer had finally been obtained and brought to their manor. Celena led the young man quickly down their halls. Icarus had been his name when he introduced himself, and Celena noted that he smelled strongly of the apothecary he'd come from. 

           Celena stood quietly in the corner of Allen's bed chamber, watching this young healer examine her brother. "Sir Allen," said his tenor voice, "How do your eyes feel?"

Allen easily got frustrated with his own handicap, irritated that he could no longer function as he could before, that he needed someone else's aid just to wander the halls of his own damnable home.  He drew away from them, all but for Celena, who was always at his side.  Always.  

           "They do not ache."  Allen shrugged slightly, still frustrated.  He had once had the finesse, the grace and ease of movement unlike any other.  But now...

"Celena, would you be so kind as to draw the curtains," Icarus said, and pulled a mirror from his pocket as the girl quickly obeyed. There was sudden burst of sunlight in the room. Icarus used the mirror to redirect the sunlight briefly into Allen's empty gaze. The knight did not flinch, nor did his pupils dilate. The young alchemist pulled back with a grim look.

           "That's fine, Miss Schezar, thank you." Celena, sad and dismayed, slowly closed the curtains again.

Allen frowned slightly.  The cleric didn't seem to think anything good about it.  

           "Be honest with it," he murmured softly, though frightened of the most likely answer.  "what do you think?"

Icarus might have been young, but he refused to be blunt, even at the knight's insistence. "Sir Schezar, I would think that you should take rest. I cannot determine how long this will last for you, honestly. All I can suggest is that you take your time with it."

"You do know, don't you?"  Allen turned his sightless gaze towards him, frowning a bit.  "Tell me so that I might force myself to adjust to it."

The healer sighed deeply. "Very well, Sir Schezar. From what I could gather, your eyes sustained too much pressure. There are vessels that hold blood and give oxygen to them in your eyes, but . . . your pupils have been paralyzed, and those vessels have burst. They will retain their color, but - I'm afraid they will not be of use to you anymore." 

Just as he had feared.  Just as Gaddes had assured him it wouldn't be.  Allen was silent for a long moment, then nodded.  Too calm.  He was too calm about it.  He'd just been told that he wouldn't ever be able to see again, his sight wouldn't come back... and all he offered in return to the words was a nod.  

           At least he knew... he would begin forcing himself to get used to it.  He'd train, he'd do anything he could to function the way he did before... or at least as close to it as he could.

It was automatic how Celena went to Allen's side, seated where he was, and she knelt and took his arm. Icarus watched them sadly, gathering his bag and searching through it for a vile of herbs. He handed the vile to Celena. "Here is some medicine, to help with circulation. It's all I can offer." he said his words almost apologetically. He closed his bag and started to gather his coat. Celena did not stop him.

           She looked up at her brother, who appeared to be watching the door to his room with a stern gaze, but she knew that he saw nothing - nothing but darkness. "What now, Allen?" asked Celena after the healer had left them.

Allen shrugged slightly with a sigh.  "What can I do but learn to deal with it?  When Gaddes comes, I'll make sure to set up a time to train.  I have to learn to fight like this."  Allen was determined to not let this win him over.  He'd defeat it, damn it.

           He might have spoken calmly, but deep down, he was anything but.  Fear and anger both bubbled up.

"Train? You cannot train like this!" Celena insisted, "My dear brother, you are blind! You could be hurt even more, and I would not have that happen to you again. Please, Allen."

"I must.  I am still a knight, Celena.  And I cannot be so if I cannot defend myself or my king.  And you.  Even if I am blind, I still have to defend these people, especially you."

"I am not such a frail thing to be protected." she said angrily, standing and towering over Allen, "And if you cannot see that, then you truly are blind in more than just your unseeing eyes."

"Can you even let me do that?  Do you even understand how helpless I feel now?  I'm blind, Celena, _blind_.  I couldn't help you when you were taken, I just barely got you back... let me have some worth."  Allen clenched his fists tightly to his chest, head bowed, shoulder's shaking.

Her heart broke and she wept for him, felt pity for him. The girl's breath wavered and her voice trembled. "Of course," she whispered, "Of course, yes. But - but, Allen . . . I . . ."

"Just... let me.  Let me find some worth in what I have left, please."  Allen sighed softly, shaking his head.

"What you have left?" she asked, her voice soft, "You have _me_, Allen. And I am not a child to be protected anymore." She embraced him then, her touch surprising him for he did not see it coming, "You will train, and I will train with you."

"I know I have you and I am thankful for it... but I still... I feel I must protect you.  I wasn't able to do it before, but now that I have you back, I must.  I have to, even... if I cannot defend myself."  He started slightly at his sister's touch, but sighed against her.  "I would be glad to have you at my side..."

She sighed happily, weary with sorrow. "I am glad."

          Allen being as stubborn as he was, began to train with his second in command and his sister the very next day. Gaddes led the siblings to the fields behind the Schezar manors. He had swords wrapped in canvas that he carried in his arms. Their walk through the grass was silent. Celena had dressed in her brother's clothes. She hadn't told him, and she was glad that Gaddes made no mention of it either. Both knew that Allen disapproved of a lady to dress inappropriately.

           Allen had a grip on Celena's upper arm, so that she may guide him accurately. Though the ground was so uneven, there were times that not even she could prevent him from tripping.

Allen had no idea what she was wearing and didn't think to ask.  He wasn't sure just what she meant by training with him.  For the last part of the walk out there, Allen walked on his own, without her arm for guidance.  The going was slower because of it, but he was determined.  He couldn't depend on another for everything, after all.  

           With his sword in his hand, a familiar feeling, he relaxed slightly, the burdens lessening a little.  It was good that his style of fighting didn't force him to depend on his sight as much as others did, though it was an important part.  The weight of his sword and the sway of the blade was very comfortable in his hand, and he sighed softly.  Perhaps overcoming this would not be so difficult after all.

Celena kept her silence, merely unsheathing the blade that Gaddes handed to her. She knew some sword technique, being as stubborn as her brother and having coaxed Gaddes to teach her. Her training wasn't complete, and she was glad for the opportunity to continue with her brother. Allen had his sword drawn, the tip was toward the ground.

With her own sword, she tapped against the metal of Allen's, making him turn toward the vibrations. Gaddes was the one that spoke from behind her. 

"Just start with some simple moves, not even full swings, okay?"

Allen nodded slightly, resting on the balls of his feet, bowing his head slightly, just listening.  The sword was drawn up, held loosely in his hand, comfortably against the gloved palm.  Even blind, he moved fast.  Nothing too difficult to parry, something along the lines of what a beginner would do.  He was doing this for her benefit... as much as his own.  He wanted to test his limits, after all.

"The movements will be familiar to you," said Gaddes, and Celena brought up the tip of her sword. "Listen to the enemy's sword as it lifts into the air. Upper block!"

Ah, yes, the familiarities.  He allowed himself to be lost in it, even though it was still simple movements.  Recalling the layout of the land, fields he'd played in since he was a child, where he himself had learnt to fight.  When he didn't have to think so much about his movements, he was fine, his grace returned, the ease for which he moved.  

Celena clashed her sword against his as it moved upward, and she was glad to see his blade moving like it had so many times. But he still did not see her moves coming, and just listening to the swing of her sword could not prevent possible injuries. They continued through the very basic motions, practicing nothing too difficult. 

           "Are you alright, Allen?" asked Celena finally.

Allen flashed the first hint of a smile for a long time, straightening slightly, the sword tip down in a sign of peace.  Habit, really.  "Far better than I have been."  Though he was somewhat frustrated with how the exertion gnawed at him.  But he'd expected it, considering how little he'd moved about recently.  But it would get easier, no doubt.

Celena smiled as well. "Then you know you've been sparring with your sister?" She dropped her sword and embraced him tenderly.

Allen arched a brow slightly, moving the sword away to keep it carefully out of her way.  "But..."

           Ah, no skirts.  The blonde frowned slightly... pants, of course.  Mm... she must have convinced Gaddes.  "It isn't proper, you know.  Are you wearing gloves?"

"Um . . ." She grinned and took his free hand into her own. "If I said no?"

          Allen sighed, shaking his head and clasping her hands.  "If you're going to do this, wear them.  I won't have you form calluses.  A lady's hands should be soft, not hardened by such play. Gaddes, be sure she wears them, mm?"

"Ah, so you've grudgingly accepted my interests in the sword arts?" she teased, "Perhaps this blindness is not so bad then, hmm? If that's all it takes to sway you . . ."

"You are as stubborn as I, I know not to argue such matters with you."  Allen waved a gloved hand slightly, shaking his head.  Even he wore gloves.  Just as he had spoken of a lady's hands, a nobleman's hands should be so.

"You're so painfully posh, sometimes . . . such a fop, it hurts." She giggled.

"Well, one must make amends in the king's court, mm?"  Allen smiled slightly, inclining his head.

But his words made her go quiet with thoughts of their abominable king. "And what of that matter, brother?" she asked finally.

"Of what?  Ah, the king... Gaddes has informed me that the Knights of Caeli, those who remain are to meet with the king in two day's time."

"To - discuss what, Allen?" she stepped away from him, still holding his hand. She looked to Gaddes, who had been watching them from under the shade of a tree. His face was grim, and she had to restrain herself from gasping softly in realization - it was not to be a happy gathering to take place in two days.

Allen shook his head slightly.  "One, to assess the damage done until the order.  And, as well, to figure out just what we're going to do.  Likely this won't be the only raid."  He, himself, was grim about this.  The meeting in general.  He did not have good feelings about it at all.

Out of a recent habit, Celena brought his hand up to her fair face, and she nodded. "I understand. I will go with you in two days to the palace. But for now, do you suppose we're finished for today?"

"You may go with me there, but you will not be able to stay with me within the meeting itself."  Allen nodded slightly to her words.  "We are, yes..."

Celena stepped away from Allen, who stood helplessly as they gathered the swords - Celena gently releasing her brother's grasp on his own blade so that she could sheath it and hand it to Gaddes. She wasn't sure weather she should help her brother back to the manor as they started on their way back. She would let Allen decide if he needed her guidance.

Stubborn as he was, even though he was weary, he walked himself back.  There, without the sword in hand, he moved slower, doing his best to keep from tripping up.  the movements were not as graceful as they had been earlier, but even when he did stumble, he brushed aside aid, reminding himself that he could not depend on another forever.

"Steps, Allen." Celena said sadly as they came up to the back entrance that led into their kitchen.

Ah, yes, his biggest challenge yet.  He slid his hand against the railing, grasping it firmly and, well... taking his time navigating his way up the steps.  He'd take a step and tap the toe of his boot lightly against the next one and step up on that one.  Careful, slow goings, but successful nonetheless.

Relieved that he did not fall this time, Celena opened the back door and let them inside the house, Gaddes left their swords with her and took his leave. Celena looked around the kitchen, empty and plain. The smell was strong of onions and garlic, remnant of many glorious meals prepared here. She set the canvas covered weapons upon the table in the breakfast nook, and turned.

           "Do you need help into the parlor?" She asked of her brother.

"I believe I can make it," he murmured softly, nodding a little.  One hand held lightly out from his side to keep him from bumping into walls, he moved.  The kitchen... from there, he followed the map of the place in his mind, and upon reaching the parlor paused, recalling the setup of the place.  This pace of his... it was tiring, really.  So slow, so different from what it had been before.  It constantly reminded him of what he had lost.

"Sir Allen," greeting a young tenor voice.

The blonde paused in the doorway, turning his sightless gaze towards the voice, furrowing his brow slightly.  It was regretful he did not have his sword at his side.

           "...Yes?"

"It is Icarus," replied the young man, "I was let in by one of the maids and told to wait here for your return from the fields. She mentioned that you were training at the sword."

"Ah, yes.  What can I do for you?"  The blonde arched a brow slightly, wondering why the cleric had returned... unless he had news of some sort.

"Well, I came to give you something that might prove useful to you." said Icarus carefully, moving to retrieve his gift that leaned against the wall.

Allen moved just inside the doorway, cocking his head to the side slightly, curiously.  "Well... my thanks for whatever it might be..."

"Of course." said Icarus. Gently, he took the knight's hand and folded the sword-strong hands around a long rod that held the weight of wood. 

A cane, wasn't it?  Ah, Gods... a cane.  It would be useful, yes, to no ends, but even still... it would further rub his weakness in his face.  Though he did appreciate the gesture immensely.  

"Thank you... I'm rather sure it will come in handy..."

Icarus saw something pass through Allen's expression, almost too brief to detect. Icarus was no older than Allen himself, and he could understand how it might feel to lose one's sight at such young age. 

"I only wish for your well being, Sir Allen." and he removed his hands from Allen's. "To use it, just sweep it in front of you as you walk. It will probably help with steps and stairs - as I see your home is quite full of them."

"Mm, yes... I do appreciate the gesture.  I'm sure I'll use it much."  Allen took Icarus' hand lightly in his gloved ones, clasping in thankfully.  

"Of course." said the healer, clasping the knight's hand in return before releasing his hold and reaching for his coat by the front door in the foyer. "I must go now, Sir Allen. Good luck on your training."

"Of course.  And good luck in your later years, as well.  And thank you for your blessings."

Icarus nodded, out of habit, and left his peer standing in the hall. Celena came up behind him, having watched the whole scene without her brother detecting her.

          "A cane?" she said softly behind him.

Allen sighed softly, setting it aside against the wall.  "Intentions were good... and it would be useful, but I will not have my weakness be known to everyone.  I will do fine enough without it.  If I use it now... then I will grow dependant on it, and I cannot have myself doing such a thing.

"But - if you don't use it, you will depend on me." said Celena logically, her tone sad. "But I understand. You don't want people to know about you . . . like this."

"If I don't use it, then I will be forced to depend on myself."  It was something he'd forced himself to stand by.  While yes, there were times he would need aid... he could not depend on another forever.  Not even Celena.  The blonde knight shook his head slightly, sighing softly.  "The word will spread fast enough... but even still.  I will not act the part of the cripple."

"And what if you get lost? Should I have you wander the road by yourself, only for you to move away from the path before you knew it? Only to fall down steps that you could not see? Is your image so important?" 

"Would you have me think so low of myself, then?  Already I have fallen, Celena, would you have me fall yet more?  Yes, my sister... image is much.  The order are those untouched, the highest of the knights."

"But you are _blind_!" she said, perfectly enunciating the words as if he were deaf to them as well.

Allen turned his head away, grinding his teeth tensely.  "By my sight, perhaps.  But I will not allow it to conquer my life."

"But this you cannot hide!" she argued, "Why do you insist to hide what your are? Are you so afraid of the scrutinizing gazes that might fall upon you - shrewd looks from people that you cannot see?"

"Is that so wrong, then?  These people in this city looked up to me, respected me.  But who... who respects a blind man?  That respect will crumble.  Is it such a horrid thing to not want to bear it!?"

She took his hand. "Allen, listen to me. I'm only interested in your well being. If you want to hide, then I will shield you."

Allen sighed heavily, drawing his hand away, turning and carefully navigating his way through the parlor.  It was not her he was disgusted with... but himself.  He could not loathe her as he did himself.  No, she had been there beside him and still stood at his side.  No... no, he couldn't hate her.

           But he could hate what he had become... and that was precisely what he did.

"Allen, what is it?" she followed him into the parlor, "What is it that you want of me?"

"Just... leave it be.  Leave me to my ways.  They will be more difficult, but I don't care... I don't care how long it takes."  Allen sighed heavily, resting his forehead against a pane of glass of the window he paused beside.  "I will overcome this.  I won't let it hold me back.  I can't."

Celena sighed and left him to his brooding. 


	3. Resignation

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Resignation**

When it came time to go to the palace, Celena felt apprehensive, and she didn't doubt that Allen felt just as bad. It was a horrible carriage ride. Allen had always ridden a horse to the city, sometimes with Celena on her own mare riding next to him. But it was very different to pull up in front of the palace gates in a carriage.

           She stepped out first, which was not lady like. It was the lady that would wait for the gentlemen to help her step down to the marble pathways - but Celena needed to guide her brother down, and she felt the stewards around her stare. Silently, she led him into the palace.

Allen was known well among the palace gatherers, and to see him made them pleased.  Until they noticed the lack of courtly glistening in his pretty eyes, the fact that he rested a hand on his sister's forearm for guidance.  When they reached the doors to the meeting room, he turned his head slightly towards her.  

"Wait here," he murmured, and slipped inside.  There, Gaddes led him to a seat and Allen didn't have to be able to see to know the other knights stared.

           He, the most honored, the youngest... there was something different about him.

"How are you holding up, boss?" asked Gaddes from behind Allen, since Allen needed to stand with the 12 other Caeli Knights.

Allen shook his head slightly.  He would be fine for now.  The uniform had once more been donned, the blood and mess cleaned lovingly from the cloth with many thanks to Celena.  He looked as proper and fine as he always did... besides that vacant look in his unseeing eyes.

"The people have turned to hordes!" cried one of the Caeli Knights, an older man with dark hair, long as was the fashion of their country.

           "It is true!" said another knight, and the soldiers were beginning to stir behind the line of Knights. "All they need is food, but there is none to be had. Your majesty. What do you intend to do in this matter?"

The king quieted the group of soldiers gathered, addressing other problems first.  One of the other knights had sustained a grievous injury as well.  Even though he was there and focused, the beginnings of gangrene had begun to grow in a festering, horrible wound in his arm.  Later... that would have to go... 

And now, so would he.  

The man was graceful in his resignation and Allen tensed visibly in front of Gaddes, his throat tightening.  Other injuries were spouted off, though no others resigned and slipped outside until Allen.

           He could feel the king's eyes upon him and he turned his head to face him, though he could not see the wizened face he knew very well.  Millerna was there, likely, beside her father as well.  A pity that she, too, had to see him like this.

 He did not hear the king's long spoken speech, full of notifications of glory and wonder in Allen's "short servitude."  The blonde felt his heart constrict.  All he had worked to, he had gained and held onto with honor and pride.  And after such a short time, it was wrenched from him.  

          "...his untimely resignation..." was all he heard.  Allen had a mind to kneel before the king, with Gaddes' aid, murmuring his resignation calmly, as if he'd been planning it all along.  He didn't have a choice but to accept the choice gracefully.  Numbly, the blonde walked alongside Gaddes, who continuously peered at Allen worriedly, stepping out of the double doors and behind them, the king continued, speaking of the unfortunates of the city.

           But Allen heard none of it.  He just wanted to get home.  Get away from the pairs of eyes staring at him, boring into him.

Celena did not wait outside of the court long. Not twenty minutes went by before she saw her brother come out, being led by Gaddes. Fear gripped her, she stumbled toward them, taking Allen's hand.

"What in the world happened? What of the riots? What . . .?"

"We will return home," Allen answered stiffly, continuing to walk towards the entrance to the palace.  There was a respectful salute given by the soldiers there, the same that the knight before him had been graced with when he'd left.  But Allen noticed none of it.  The grief tugged at his heart, tearing at it.  So much for continuing to live his life the way he had before.  The carriage ride back was stiff and silent, and when they reached the manor, Allen didn't argue when Celena helped him out and towards the house.

"You will not talk to me," commented Celena, "You have changed. You resign to my aid and do not speak." But in her sorrow, she'd failed to tell him when they'd reached the steps of their home.

Allen managed to catch himself on the banister as he stumbled and stayed there for a long moment before slowly sinking to his knees.  His shoulders slumped forward, uncaring of the dust and dirt that once more marred the pristine uniform.  He didn't care anymore.  It didn't matter.  

           "Resign... he... I was forced to resign," he muttered, his voice trembling.  Here, no eyes would stare, but for his sister's and those few servants they kept there.  His shoulder's shook, his hands trembling as they clutched themselves to his chest.  Oh, and the ache would not fade, would not even begin to wane.

Celena crumbled, felt her soul shrivel up and wilt. With his words, everything around her but her brother melted away. She fell next to him, and could not stop the tears that were already flowing. "No," she breathed, her voice shaking and the word wavered, "No, it cannot be . . ."

           She could not stop herself from sobbing, or from embracing her brother. "Allen, it cannot be true..."

"Lost it... I... I've lost everything except for you," he whispered, clinging to her in an almost frantic manner.  His head was bowed, long hair slipping over his shoulders to hide the tears building in unseeing eyes.  He'd lost it...

           Everything he had become was gone.  He had fallen further than he'd ever expected.  Ever.  He had no title now, he had nothing... nothing except a reputation now spoiled by his blindness, his own loathing, and a few, scattered friends who were still loyal to him.  But how long would that last, even?

Celena sobbed, and was comforted that Allen held her. She felt his distress, his tears falling upon her own cheeks. Such was the way of the Schezars . . .

 "We are cursed . . ." she breathed. Her arms tightened around him, her tears soaking into the leather and silk of the uniform of the Caeli Knights.

Allen would not have believed such a thing a few short months ago.  But now...

           The blonde knight whimpered softly, burying his face into her shoulder.  They had only each other, now.  The uniform once worn with pride, carefully kept clean and unmarred... he didn't care.  The dirt and tears that soaked into it went ignored, the sword at his side... that didn't matter either, in the end, did it?  He didn't have a reason to fight anymore.  

           Which left him questioning just why he was still alive.  No, Allen was not looking for his death, he was not going to take his life himself... at least not now.  He still had Celena to take care of... or rather, she to take care of him.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment, or rather, Celena did not know how much time had passed as they sat on their front steps and cried the sorrow out of their hearts. The sun had begun to set, and it seemed that Celena could cry no longer. She cupped Allen's face in her hands, gazing up him painfully with her own sapphire orbs, before kissing his tears.

          "We must go inside, Allen." And she kissed his nose, snoodling him and feeling the chill of the night as it was about to descend.

Allen miserably, wearily allowed himself to be led inside and to the parlor where he sat heavily, numbly down on the couch.  He clasped his gloved hands before him, staring blindly at them for a long moment.  

           The tears had dried away and stopped by then, his head bowed, blonde hair slipping over his shoulders.  It was so hard to believe, so difficult to pass off as reality.  In such a short amount of time, he had everything ripped away from him, as if by some vicious god seeking vengeance.

In the next few days, there was a silent fog around their home. The fog was not uncommon to the manor, being so close to the shore. But it was as if the area, their home, was reflecting the heavy feelings that filled the Schezar manor. Allen's uniform was folded and put away lovingly into a chest, but it was as if some part of him died that day he was forced to resign from the knights.

Celena didn't know how to deal with his sudden melancholy. Even when he was told of his blindness, it seemed he still had something to live for and retained some sort of happiness to work towards a goal. What goal did he have now? Why would he need to fight? Allen had kept to his rooms for whole days, and it was only when Celena forced him to his feet and dragged him into the bathing room that he bathed at all.

It was only when Celena insisted that his hair be brushed that he was sit dumbly and allow her to brush his hair. The fog was unrelenting, and it drifted across the hills and through the trees of the forests just beyond their manor courtyard. As children, they had loved to play in fog – even though it had been cold and their mother scolded them for it. But they had loved to hide it in, and Allen especially finding joy in sneaking up on his little sister.

But that was when they were young. There was a grim determination in Celena, aside from training with Gaddes  without her brother's permission. All she really wanted was to see his carefree smile again. After she had come home, there was hardly a day that went by when Allen did flash her a kind smile. In a confident pace, she went to his room one day, walking in without knocking. It didn't matter anymore. She was the only one to ever visit his rooms.

"Allen," she said with forced delight, plastering a smile on her face despite the bedraggled appearance of her brother. "I was thinking we could go for a walk outside today."

          Gaddes was worried about Allen.  It was as if the energy that had lingered, the charisma, everything about him just... faded.  Even if Allen wasn't a knight anymore, Gaddes still cared, he still came by nearly every day to talk to Celena, to check up on how he was doing.  Even if it was the same answer every day.

           Allen preferred his silence, drawing away from others.  What did he have left, after all?  There was no honor in being forced to resign, especially so young.  But it was fitting, wasn't it?  The youngest knight to be accepted an the youngest knight to resign.  Allen grew bitter, loathing.  The only constants he had were his moroseness, his sister and Gaddes.  It wasn't enough.  After the loss of his sister, Allen had craved others needing him, had needed to be wanted, and that desire had carried over even after Celena had been returned to him.  But who would he help now?  He was just a cripple...

          He was aware that at first, some of his fellow... nae, once fellow knights of Caeli visited him, but they had long since stopped when they'd seen the bitterness that had knotted inside of him.  When he spoke of not wanting anyone's pity, especially theirs.  

          Sometimes when he couldn't sleep, as it had become recently that he could not, he would glide outside of his room and wander aimlessly, eventually finding himself crouched next to the chest that held his uniform, one pale, ungloved hand brushing against the surface of it.  Memories.  But they were all broken and charred, locked away.

          Allen used to love taking walks, especially in the fog.  Sometimes, after Celena had been taken, he would wander into the fog and stay there, listening and hearing her voice, her laughter until someone from the manor would fetch him and bring him inside.  But now... what use did he have for walks?  He could not see the countryside now, nor the smile on his sister's face.  He couldn't walk about the city to make sure things were alright.  He didn't have that duty anymore.  He didn't... he didn't deserve it.

           He was just a cripple after all. 

           And thus, he stayed silent... what was there to say to her offer that had not been said before?  He would not argue it if she chose to take him.  And he would not argue if she left him to his bitterness.  It didn't matter any more.

She carried his cloak draped over her arm as if she'd already been expecting him to agree. . . as if he didn't have a choice. And when Celena put her mind to something, it ended with him in fact not having the choice. The garment was thick, heavy wool to keep out the chill, and without so much as a warning Celena dropped it into his lap.

           "Not that you have a choice in the matter," she finished, her tone a bit clipped in annoyance.

Allen sighed softly.  Of course he didn't have a choice.  When did he ever have a choice in anything nowadays?  Now, even she was being short with him.  Of course, he couldn't blame her... and deep down he knew it was his own fault.  He couldn't blame anyone else for that.

           Numbly, Allen lifted the cloak and tugged it on, clasping it.  It was reflex, the way he straightened it so, even if it did not matter.  Who would be there to see him, after all?

           It hurt to know that he was neglected so by all except Gaddes and Celena... if he recalled correctly, even Millerna had not come to show her sympathies.  Oh well... she didn't need to see him this way any more than any other did.

Celena had already donned her own wool cloak, a brooch at her clavicle. Her brother followed silently behind her, downstairs where they stopped in the foyer before the front doors. She saw the forgotten cane upon the wall, took it, and pressed it into Allen's numb grasp.

          "Please, Allen," she told him gently, "Stop being stubborn."

Allen had a mind to argue, but his lips stayed shut.  Of course, they rarely didn't.  He paused for a moment, then relented and curled his fingers about the cane.

          Pride... he didn't have any of that left.  What was the use?  Everyone knew he was a cripple... he might as well play the part.  He didn't have to show his strength any more, he didn't have a reputation to keep up any more.  Just who would care, after all?

Celena heaved a heavy sigh from her lungs, giving into his silence yet again. She opened the door and led her brother out onto the grounds of their home. The fog was indeed thick that morning, and it made her thankful for the cloak she wore. She looked to her brother, cloaked and holding his cane. He wasn't using it. All she could do was shake her head.

           They stepped into the boundaries of the forests on their lands. "When will you ever talk to me again, you stubborn bastard." she admonished quietly.

Allen sighed, turning his head away slightly.  He wasn't sure.  He wasn't really sure why he wasn't talking to her.. or anyone else for that matter.  Sometimes there'd be snatchings of replies from him, though rarely, and hardly ever long at all.

           Before all of this, Allen would have refused to leave without his sword, but now... what could he do?  Their roles had switched all of a sudden.  It wasn't Allen who was caring for his sibling... it was she that was caring for him.

Celena had already led him deep into the forest, where the smell of the ocean was strongest. They were near their family's private beach inlet. More fond memories flashed through her mind, but she had to push them aside. She wrenched her arm free of her brother's dependant grasp, something of a low growl emitting from her throat.

          "If you do not speak to me, I will leave you here to find your own way home." she threatened angrily.

It brought him some amusement to think of... and wonder if she really would.  Allen walked quietly forward until he felt the packed sand give way beneath his boots and he sat own, tugging his knees to his chest.  

           Would it really be so bad, after all?  It would be easy that way... she could just leave him there.  A test of his will, perhaps?  A test to see if he wanted to die or not?  He hadn't yet decided.  As time had gone on, the bitterness was wretched and ate at him constantly.  It was not a happy existence.  So what did he have?

          But a small voice inside of him nudged him away from that path.  Celena was still there, after all.  He had to protect her, didn't he?

Understanding did not reach her, nor did rationality. From where she stood she watched her brother move to the beach, and there sat in the sand. Where had she gone wrong? When will this bitterness end? These questions and more, she found herself asking. From that dreadful day when his condition was confirmed, it had all gone horribly wrong.

          There was no cure for such sadness, nothing to quell the clench of it in her heart. Deaf were her ears to her own wail of anguish. It could not be helped. Celena had finally reached her capacity, and there, crying, she dropped to her knees and hid her face in her fair hands.

Allen bowed his head against his knees silently, listening to her cry.  He had done that.  It was his fault...

           But he could not find the kindness within him to apologize for it, to comfort her.  He had no comfort for himself... what could he give another?  After all that had happened, Allen clung to what little he had left for himself.  What little kindness he had left within him, he tugged close frantically, what pity and sacrifice... who would know that he had it?  He'd keep it close...

          It did hurt to hear her cry, but he was numb from a constant stream of pain.  His emotions battered him, tore at him... and evidently tore at his sister, too.

Sobbing and sniffling, she managed to crawl to him on the sandy beach, grasping him as she cried more tears. She had failed him, it seemed. There was nothing she could have done to bring him back from his silence. 

Even as she pleaded, "Please, Allen, speak to me, speak to me. Say that you love me, tell me that you hate me, anything!" she came to understand that it might all be for naught.

           It might soon be the end, she had realized. There was only so much pain her heavy heart could bear. It was slowly reaching it's limit. Celena had felt her brother's life ebb like the tides before her own weeping eyes. Resigning from the royal regiment was one thing - but if she didn't do something soon, she felt he might resign his life entirely. 

Allen could do naught but tug her close with an arm when she came to him.  He had no words to spare, wisely keeping his mouth shut.  If he spoke, it would make things worse.  He had nothing kind to say.

           Surely the king had known what losing his knighthood would do to him.  But then again... they were all just pawns to him, weren't they?  They were there to do his bidding, follow him without question.  Surely... Allen had been replaced by now.  Replaced and accepted by the other knights, just as they had accepted him when he replaced another.  It was their way.

           It hurt to think of how expendable they were, all of them.

"If you do not speak," managed Celena once her weeping gave her a headache, "Then I will not only leave you, but I will leave the manor and join the knights in your place." 

           Her voice betrayed her and showed her devastation, but it had a low quality to it that suggested danger. Standing quickly from him, she was already marching away. Deeply in her soul, she pondered at her secrets - and silently wished that he would stop her.

Allen shuddered at her cold brush, turning his head away.  He couldn't hear her leaving.  He should stop her... he should call her back and tell her how sorry he was, tell her how much he hurt, tell her what a mess he was... but he couldn't.

           A knot forced itself into his throat and would not budge.

           If he'd been more attentive in that damnable riot, none of this would have happened.

           They'd fought fate before... why couldn't he do it again?

          This time... he didn't have the others with him.  Only Celena and Gaddes were there.  And who was Allen Schezar, anyway, now without his knighthood.  Who could he fight in this embittered, horrid state he was in.

           He should have stopped her, but he couldn't.

           Idly, he wondered if they'd even take her.

"If anything," she said lastly before she was out of his earshot, "I'll join Asturian forces. It might be a pleasant thing to be away from your damnable bitterness and cruelty." She didn't really want to go back to their home yet, to pack or do anything. For the time being, she settled herself to wandering the forest - to finally have some peace and time to herself.

           Thoughts of the Caeli Knights had once been dreams to her. How her soul had begged to wear the proud blue and white uniform her brother donned when he was on duty. Even now, should couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt in indulging in that dream, so close to making it real. Since childhood, her brother chided her for wanting to be a swordswoman. The dream wasn't so wrong - and now it felt like her only way to escape her sorrow - Allen's sorrow.

Allen tugged his knees tightly to his chest, bowing his head.  Now... this damned run of horrid luck had run his sister away, as well.  

          Nae... not bad luck.  It was his own fault.  Because he couldn't do anything anymore, because he'd said nothing, because he'd been a selfish little git that couldn't see past his own aches and worries and sorrows to see those he was causing in another.  Namely, his sister.

           He'd known he'd been hurting her all along, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it.  Pressing the palms of his shaking hands to his eyes to attempt to keep the tears from falling, he curled up where he was, miserably.  He knew the forest well... but there were visual signs he used to navigate it.  He couldn't now.  He couldn't find his way back.


	4. Pain

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Pain**

Peace guided Celena's steps. She knew these trees well, having relearned the paths of roots and vines within the past two years since being reunited to her only family. Occasionally she would climb down a small incline, where the roots of a tree made a wall of earth. There were always such fantastical games played here when she was young. Such carefree bliss and not a worry to be found. 

          Walking among the trees now and thinking of such memories had even made her smile briefly. She was safe here. Now, it was well known that highwaymen existed in certain parts near Palas. But there were such places, so beautiful and full of memories as these, that it would not have occured to be wary of a watchful gaze.

          "Well, aren't you a pretty thing," said a man. He was leering. His voice cut through the fog like a sword, and made Celena stumble in surprise. She looked towards where the man had spoken from. The mists cleared just enough to reveal a small camp, crude as it was to even be called a camp. A small fire in a clearing with a beat up cooking pot was set in front of a small canvas tent. 

           "Who are you?" demanded Celena instantly, keeping her distance from the man. She did not like his gaze upon her, even as he suddenly tried to be friendly. His face was scarred and needed to be shorn. There were wrinkles around his eyes that said he'd seen too many hours under a hot sun. She was glad he hadn't advanced upon her.

           "Oh, who I am is really none of your business." He answered coldly.

           "It is when you trespass. These forests belong to me." A cold chill ran down her spine that her woolen cloak could not have prevented - for it was not the dense fogs that caused her to shiver. It was the look of mockery and arrogance - and it suggested lust. Celena took a step back.

          "You own these lands?" he barked out a laugh, "You are but a woman. Come, come. Your husband must surely think you fowl for stealing his pride."

          "Leave these lands immediately, sir! Or I will be forced to take drastic measures." But as soon as she spoke her words, in confidence, she knew it was a mistake. The man drew forth a sword that had been hidden behind the tree he leaned upon. Cursing herself for not bringing a sword with her, she turned to run. Cursed as their family was, she had the bad luck to trip on a thick root of a tree, the forest being full of them.

          There was hardly any time to scream, her head being wrenched back by her silver hair. The sea weathered highwayman forced her onto her back, sneering at her. "I'll be doing the drastic measures here, missy. I'm sure your husband won't mind."

Her mouth was covered by his dirty hands, her body wracked with panic. It couldn't have been more plain what this man wanted - his wantonness was obvious. The highwayman had just managed to lift her skirts as she lay on the ground, and she bit his fingers. His hand flew away from her mouth and for the precious brief moment, she let out a mighty wail for help.

          All for naught, for the next moment she was gagged. Her muffled screams would not be heard by anyone, and she was pinned underneath the heavyset highwayman. Frustrated, he had struck her across the face more than once during his pleasure hoards on her, violently thrusting in and out of her and taking the virginity from her once chaste blossom. 

He'd carried her away from his camp, careful to conceal his whereabouts, once he'd finished with her. Far enough away, he threw her onto the hard rooted ground, taking back his gag and laying one last, disgusting kiss on her swollen lips.

          She whimpered, as it had all happened so fast. Her body ached, and she felt herself bleeding between her legs but she was helpless to do anything about it. All she could do was lay where she'd been dropped, and cry from the horror that just befell her.

Gaddes had come to the house in hopes of hearing yet... more frustrating news about his once energetic commander.  Finding neither Celena or Allen there, told they'd gone for a walk, the soldier decided he'd join them.  Likely it would be disturbing, to see the listless manners of the blonde.  

On horse back, he wandered about the huge lands, through the fields and came upon the forest.  He recalled Allen speaking once about how they'd played here when they were younger... lucky for Celena he decided to venture in there.  Gaddes frowned slightly... in this fog, he'd likely missed them.  And Allen probably left his sword, too.  He took his pace slowly, one hand on the sword at his side.  He didn't think anyone would attack him.  

          And then he heard it.  Crying.  His brow furrowed... was that Celena?

          His first reaction, his first thought was that something had happened to Allen.  It would be easy enough, after all.  Following the sound, he came upon her.  No... no, it wasn't Allen.  Gaddes was shocked to silence for a long moment before he slid off his steed and scooped her up in his arms carefully.  He could smell it, the scent of sex and quickly banished the anger that rose up within him.  "Allen... Celena, where's Allen, what happened?"

She was in no state to respond to his inquiries, only able to shake her head fiercely as she sobbed. Her hands held herself - to quell the bleeding, as if the parts that made her feminine were to spill out if she did not force them to stay inside of her. Body trembling, sobbing, it was almost a miracle she was still awake. But she found no voice in her shock, it was all just too terrible - already her mind was forcing the memories away, trying to banish all thoughts of that horrid, disgusting man who'd taken advantage of her.

Gaddes bit down on his bottom lip lightly, carefully nudging her onto the horse and climbing up behind her.  He turned the steed about, heading back to the manor.  There, he left her with the servants, giving them explicit instructions to clean her, to be careful, gentle.  Though he knew they would anyway.  He hesitated in the doorway for a moment before he slid out, taking his horse again into the woods to find Allen.

          When he ran upon him, he hopped off his horse and scooped the blonde up onto the horse as well, surprising the ex-knight.  With that, he turned about and headed back, not aware at the moment of the presence of the highwayman huddled away in the forest.  

 When it had been explained to him what had occurred, or what tiny bit Gaddes knew, Allen slipped into shock.  He blamed himself.  It was all his fault... if he hadn't tested her limits...

Celena was settled into her bed by the servants, all of the females working to stop the hemorrhaging. Thick cloths were quickly saturated with blood. Several cloths were stained before the bleeding finally stopped, and the broken girl was left pale and tired but no longer in any pain. Her face had become bruised, her lip swollen.

          Even as she lay there on a soft feather down mattress, her body remembered being shoved down onto hard soil and tree roots. Her mind tried to forget the man's wrinkled, whiskered face, his eyes crazed with lust. Her head turned and buried deep into her pillow, and still the visions and the pains plagued her memories - the sharp slap of his hand across her face . . . the horrible thrusting and throbbing between her legs. 

          She let out a cry into her pillow, suppressing a sob at first before letting it free itself from her constricted throat. All she had left were her tears soaking into lavender scented linens.

Allen pushed past the maids in a flourish... the most emotion they'd seen from him for a long while, Gaddes quieting them and shutting the door behind him.  He knew his way around her room, he didn't need their aid.  

"Celena," Allen murmured, feeling his way over to her bedside.  He sat on the edge of the mattress, unmoving besides that for a few moments.  "Celena, I'm so sorry... It's my fault.  All of this is my fault and I'm so sorry... I was to wound up in my own misery that I didn't... I didn't see what it was doing to you.  I'm sorry that it had to be this that got me to see..."  Allen grieved, feeling out for her shoulders and when he found them, pulling her close to his chest, wrapping the blankets around her.

           "Gods, I'm sorry... you don't deserve this, you don't deserve any of this..."

At first she'd only lay stiff and tense in his arms, wary of a man's presence - but this was her brother. When that realization came, her arms flew around him and she held him with a vengeance. Her fingers clenched and twisted his shirt under her grasp, and she sobbed into his golden hair. There were no words formed from those sobs.

          She wanted to scream at Allen, even though she had been wronged by another. She didn't need his guilt, and she finally came to that conclusion - she needed his love, and goddamn it he was too stubborn and brooding to give it! This tender embrace from him - that was all she needed in the world. His love, his affection, made it strangely soothe away her demons.

Allen bowed his head against her's, long golden hair slipping over his shoulders.  Even that seemed to have life in it once again.  "I promised when you returned to me that I'd protect you... but I've been too selfish to do it.  I hope you can forgive me for my wrongs done unto you... I'll help you now and on in later years."

          But he couldn't hold onto her forever, could he?  She would need to get married eventually.  She didn't deserve such a life, aiding her blinded brother like so.

          He reached up, stroking her back softly, comfortingly.  

           "You don't deserve any of these wrongs done to you... when you were younger, and now... I don't want you to get hurt anymore."  He tightened his embrace protectively, closing unseeing eyes.  "I'll protect you, I promise.  I'll make it right for you..."

"Allen," she breathed into his ear, rubbing her cheek against his, nuzzling into him. He always smelled so good, and for now she was just content in his hold. His arms were still strong, there were still muscles underneath the silk of his shirt. She smiled against his skin and cried, "You're finally talking to me again."

"I was stupid not to before... I was being selfish and I didn't see how much it was hurting you.  I'll protect you now, I promise.  I'll work to get you the life you deserve, I'll ease your pain... I don't want you to cry, please," he whispered against her hair.     

But even at his request, she cried harder. "My - purity was taken from me. . . Allen, who will marry me now? I'm soiled and sullied. Gods, what do I do now?"

"What man would _not_ marry you?  You are still beautiful, Celena.  You did not go into this willingly, they cannot fault you for that!"  Granted... any man that would brush her aside for such a thing, Allen wouldn't let near his sister anyhow.

The words would not console her. She pulled back to hide her face from his blind eyes, burying her sobs into her pillow. "No one will want me. I am ugly to the world. He beat me - my insides are twisted and soiled. I cannot . . ."

Allen gave a soft, strangled cry, shaking his head.  "No!  No, you are not... please believe me, Celena.  You are still as wonderful a woman as you were before, it not more so now.  What man would not want a gentle, patient soul like you at their side?"

"Soiled . . ." she cried, her tears beginning to subside. Even then, a horrible pain ran through her from her depths of womanhood. She let out a cry of pain, holding herself and suddenly so very glad that her brother was blind to it all.

Allen started slightly, reaching out to touch her arm.  "Celena, please... just... just rest.  You must... you had no part in that, don't worry over your purity.  You... you are still pure to me in the greatest sense."

_You are still pure to me . . ._ Those words were somehow able to calm her tears. Her breathing was ragged against the pain she felt in such sensitive places. Would her brother truly be the only one to think of her as pure now? If so - perhaps she was destined to spend the rest of her life with him. She was broken and sullied, so who else would ever want her? Who else would ever love her more than Allen himself?

          Celena hadn't turned to look at him, to see the distraught expression on his face, his sightless gaze searching desperately through his darkness for a glimpse of her. How it pained her so to see him as he was. How it drove a dagger through her heart when he had stopped confiding in her. How it took something so horrific to finally bring him out of his stupor.

          "You will be the only one then," she said finally, her voice choking.

"No!  No... though no man would be worthy of your presence, Celena.  My dear sister, no... no one will ever be worthy of you."  His fingers found and stroked her hair softly, anguish leaking into his pretty features.

Celena was about to turn him away, to send him out of her room when he touched her so - too similar to the nightmarish man that would now likely haunt her dreams. But strangely, it did not make her flinch when he stroked her silver tendrils, now damp against her forehead from sweat, and still in short ringlets. She'd kept it short ever since that day she was found.

          A hiss passed through her lips when his fingers found a spot next to her face which was bruised blackish blue. Her swollen lip trembled and she whimpered.

Allen paused, drawing his hand away.  Even if it had been unintentional, he had harmed her.  He sighed softly, shaking his head.  "Have they done anything for it?"  

          Better yet... he called out to Gaddes and the man stepped in, respectfully averting his eyes.  

          "Go and retrieve a healer, and be quick."

          Gaddes was relieved to hear that commanding tone begin to come back and smiled broadly despite the situation, nodding.  "Sure thing, commander."  With that, he left, traveling back into the depths of the city to find a healer.  Even if he had to drag one back, by God, he'd get it.

"Gods, Allen," she groaned, "No healers, please."

"I won't have you feel this pain, Celena.  Please, just bear it... I don't want to hear you hiss like that, I don't want you to feel the pain you do..."

"Very well," she resigned without emotion. Maybe it was just better to give into his wishes, after so long of dealing with his silence. His voice she cherished now, but she would not utter another word. Sleep would not come to her easily that night. 

Icarus came having been fetched from the apothecary, and had apparently insisted that it was he who would treat Celena. When he entered her rooms, he saw Allen by his sister's side. There really wasn't much to be done.

          He'd ordered the former knight to stand aside while he examined her, and noted how wary Allen was when he'd asked him. There were bruises on Celena's pretty face, and Icarus felt a pang of sorrow for her. He never complained if it was their house  he'd been called to, so long as he would let his eyes fall upon her fair face. Of course, he was too tactful to make advances. Had the circumstances been different, Icarus would have gladly asked her to a lunch outing.

 Icarus was careful to examine her, where the intruder entered, tried to reassure her not be embarrassed. Some tissue was torn, but he was glad the damage was not too great - it seemed the man took his pleasures quickly. The bleeding had subsided, but it would most likely pain her if she moved too much. Settling her blankets back over her, Icarus told her to rest and she did, or at least she attempted to.

 It was then that Icarus took Allen outside of her room, so that his words would not fall upon her ears. Icarus shut the door behind them. They stood in the hallway, Gaddes having waited outside of Celena's room for nearly an hour. He stood once Icarus began to speak, "The damage to her body is minimal. I'm urging you not to let her up from her bed for more than the necessities."

           "So she'll be okay?" asked Gaddes worriedly. Icarus gave him a cold glare.

           "Whether she'll recover from this or not is up to you two gentleman." said Icarus warily, "I would not like to think what goes through an innocent girl's mind after she'd been ravaged by an animal of a man - nor would I wonder at her insecurities with two men in such close proximity to her. Even her brother and his good friend."

"Well, you can rest assured nothing will happen to her within this home, especially by my hands or Gaddes'.  Though I am aware it is not you who must be reassured by those words."  Allen nodded slightly to him.  "I had figured she'd best stay bedridden for now.  Is there an approximation of when she would be healed?"

          In the face of his sister's injury, Allen had stepped forward to be stern and commanding, falling easily into the long unused habit.  Gaddes shot him an amused glance, though relief shook through him.  It looked like Allen had finally drawn himself from his constant, morose silence.

           "I will do what I must to keep her safe."  

"The wounds will close within a week. But it's her resolve that I worry about. She is no doubt strong. But even I cannot fathom the horrors she endured." replied the alchemist.

"Nae... neither can I.  However, she will get through this one way or another."  Allen was strong in his belief.  She had been through cruelties before, after all.  "I suppose we will see you within the week, then?"

See.  Hah.  He wouldn't see him there, no more than he did now.  However... it was something of another sign of his stubbornness renewed to let this rule over him.

"I would be - most honored to tend to your sister, Sir Allen," bowed Icarus. Gaddes groaned inwardly.

Allen arched a brow slightly, but didn't argue.  Not now.  Not at this moment, no...

          But, by God, if he asked for Celena's courtship... then there would be arguments and questions.  "Very well.  As you have done me well with my injuries, thus I will trust you with hers."  Of course, there was that subtle brotherly, protective threat that lingered in his tone.

Gaddes watched Icarus bow again and leave them in the hall. He turned to Allen, who simply stood facing nothing in particular, his eyes never settling and always staring. It was horribly gut wrenching, but Gaddes of course, would make no mention of it.

           "Are you alright, boss?" asked Gaddes, "I mean, hell, you're finally out of that haze just when something like this happens . . ."

"Far better than I have been, Gaddes, in a way."  The blonde shook his head slightly.  "She was in the forest when you found her, yes?"  Already his mind was working, forming a plan.  Yes... he'd get his revenge alright.

"Yes. . ." answered the soldier carefully.

"Mm... to think we have men like that wandering around in our lands.  In my lands."

"Well - they've been neglected for a while now, boss. I mean, ever since you resigned from the . . ." Gaddes had to stop himself before the words came, but he feared it might have been too late.

"Mm, yes, true enough."  Allen shrugged slightly, relenting a nod.  

Gaddes had to raise an eyebrow at how nonchalantly Allen took the reminder of his resignation - perhaps things really had changed, at the price of the poor man's sister getting tortured. 

"Allen," he said, and he hardly ever used the man's first name, "What do you intend to do?"

Allen was silent for a few moments, still... before a small smile began to creep onto his lips.  "Surely it's beginning to get dark.  Lead me to my rooms, will you?"

Allen's second in command had been there since the beginning of this whole ordeal, even when the rest of his ship's crew were dispatched to other parts of the country. Even Gaddes had to admit that he'd never seen such a clear look of revenge written across the nobleman's gentle features. It was unnerving, really. But being obedient to his friend, he did what was asked of him and led the knight inside his own bedchambers.

          "Alright, boss - I think I know where you're getting at. But just in case, I missed it, remind me." All this was said even as Gaddes secured the sword at his own belt.

Allen changed clothes, with Gaddes' aid, into something more... foppish, really.  A nobleman's garb.  "If he is the predator I think he is, then me, by my lonesome--you will trail me in however manner you wish, but you must stay out of sight--will give him the perfect opportunity.  Not only am I a young nobleman, I most certainly look defenseless, mm?  And, on top of that, I am blind.  What better a target?"  Allen smirked slightly, hanging the sword at his back so the long cloak he pulled over his shoulders would hide it.

"Well, it's hard to tell at first glance." said Gaddes honestly, "You might need to use that cane of yours to complete the ruse."

"Oh, I plan on it."  Allen nodded slightly.  "Very well, shall we go downstairs?  I believe it's there."

Gaddes didn't answer, and simply led the knight back downstairs and handed the man his cane. "I don't think he'll suspect a thing." he said with his usual smarmy tone, and the whole plan reminded him of old times back at the fort, ambushing highwaymen who have done too many wrongs too near their posts.

"Good."  The only difference between then and now... was that Allen intended on having his own personal vengeance.  His own justice.  No court, no trial.  Nothing.

Their strides were quick across the grass, Allen using the cane as intended and Gaddes hardly bothering to lead - somehow figuring that Allen would just follow the sound of his footsteps. But when they reached the edge of the forests, it was evident, for Allen's cane had caught itself more than once on a bed of roots. 

           "Are you sure you'll be fine on your own, boss?" he asked for the last time.

Allen shook his head.  "I'll be fine.  I have my sword and I know these woods well enough.  Just remember how it's supposed to play out."  Allen nodded slightly to Gaddes, then, carefully, began on his way, the cane leading him.

The highwayman was quickly alerted to the presence of another approaching through the fog. When he saw it was a cloaked man, he didn't bother dousing the light of his campfire. He was on his guard, figuring that this must be the husband of the wench he took earlier. 

          "Evening." greeted the man.

Allen lifted his head slightly, turning his head sightlessly towards the man, making more of a show of it than usual.  "Ah... good evening, sir."  Allen inclined his head slightly to him, pausing his walking.

"You lost there?" asked the man, take full note of the cane that extended before this . . . guest. Blind then, was he? The man, wicked and evil as he was, could not help but think how lucky he could be in one day.

"Ah, I might so be.  This is the path to town, isn't it?"

The highwayman had to grin, and strained to push it from his voice without much success. He stood from his camp, where he'd been warming himself by the fire. 

           "'fraid not, sir." he answered, "You've wandered quite far from the path to wind up here. But it's obvious from that cane you hold in front of you. A blind man wandering the roads at night - well - no deficiency there. But quite dangerous if you cannot defend yourself from evils." 

Allen looked affronted, startled, and did a rather good show of it, too.  "Why... then... I guess I am lost, sir.  Would you be so kind as to lead me back?"  The blonde frowned slightly, holding out his free hand a bit, reaching for the man, as if looking for his guidance.

The grin that Allen could not see was truly a manifestation of evil and greed. The highwayman took a knife from his belt, silently. He would take this slowly, if he could. The man leered, "What is it worth to a noble gentleman such as yourself?"

"I have money, sir, if you would wish it."  Allen offered hopefully, turning his head toward the man's voice.  He noted the sound of the metal being unsheathed and set his senses on higher alert, waiting, though seemingly agitated from losing his way.

It seemed too easy that this man would willing give up his coin, and the highwayman had no pity for him, blind as he was. It only made his job easier. His footsteps were slow, and he advanced only a few steps toward the fool he was about to rob and kill. 

"Just set it down there on the ground."

Allen knelt, reaching inside his cloak for the money pouch he had, careful to listen to the man's footsteps as he moved forward.  Sure of where he was now, Allen pushed off the ground and launched himself towards the man, slamming his shoulder into him hard.  

The blonde rolled when he hit the ground, springing to his feet, the trusty rapier in his hand, dragging the tip of the blade lightly across the ground until it nudged the man's neck.

          He knew Gaddes had his back in case the man tried anything.  

          Allen slowly smiled.  "I pray you found pleasure in the atrocities you did to my sister."

"Oh," said the man, moving his hand ever so cautiously to where his knife fell in the foliage, "I did, mate. Every second she screamed was a pleasure to these ears."

          "Well, it's a good thing, too, isn't it?"  He nudged the side of the man's neck with the blade, nicking the skin.  "Because I think tonight I'm bound to have a little bit of fun."

This bandit was a tricky fellow, and despite all of his gloating, lies, and wickedness, he moved fast. He rolled out from under Allen's blade, picking up the knife he'd dropped from this noble's attack, and readily impaled it into Allen's thigh.

Now, a wound like that was insanely difficult to ignore.  In fact, you had to be a friggin' tank to ignore it.

           Or focused completely on being bloodthirsty.  

           While his leg wouldn't work right at the moment because of it, the burn of sharp pain went pushed aside, and as the man retracted his hand, Allen grabbed it and twisted, slamming his elbow into his arm and hearing the satisfying crack of bone.  

"This is what you get for being a fool of a man.  I feel no pity for you, for you showed none to by sister when you wrenched her pride from her."  

          The cane was turned in his hands, gripped tightly and yanked back against the man's neck, the pressure hard enough to discourage, but not to strangle.  Not yet.  The blonde pressed his weight forward until the man was down again, Allen on his knees behind him.

          The cane aside, Allen trailed his hands up the grizzled neck to the other's temples, grasped his head tightly and proceeded to viciously, primitively slam his head into the ground, the blonde's shoulder's heaving with the effort.

          More than simply the fact that he had raped his sister... Allen continued to beat the man's head into the ground with a fury borne of his own frustrations.  Losing his knighthood, his sight, how much he had hurt his sister... it all formed together in one raging ball of angered heat.

          And the poor man beneath his hands was his victim.  Allen wasn't the strongest man in the world, but neither was he the weakest.  He ignored the smatters of blood against his hands, even as they were slick with it, angered, frustrated cries slipping from his lips each time the man's head collided with the hard ground beneath.  

For once, Allen let himself go.  He didn't care what it might have looked like, how savage it may have seemed.

          He'd forgotten Gaddes' presence nearby.  All that mattered was the stilling man beneath him.

Gaddes saw the scene take place before him, and he was wide-eyed and stricken with horror. He'd had his sword drawn, but now with what he saw, the blade dropped to the ground and he rushed to Allen, pulling him off of the fallen bandit - or trying to.

          The soldier grabbed Allen's shoulders firmly, and wrenched him free from the corpse beneath him. 

"He's dead, boss." said Gaddes breathlessly, "You did it. You killed him. Holy Jechia, you killed the guy."

Allen's breath came heavy from the onslaught of his emotions, the rush of them, as well as the exertion from, well... beating the man to death.  He'd never killed someone like that before.  The blonde winced as the wound in his thigh pulled and his bloody hands found the dagger.  Best to leave it in until they get back where they could take care of it.

          "He's dead," he murmured softly, a little wonderingly.  It had been so simple... too simple for a man of such evil.

The fine coat and shirt were splattered with blood, just as his hands and cheeks were.

Gaddes went to pick up their fallen blades, sheathing own and handing the hilt to Allen, who at first didn't know it was being offered to him. "Your sword, sir." he said.

Allen lifted his head slightly, grasping the hilt in a blood slick hand and sliding it into the sheath.  He grabbed Gaddes' hand and pulled himself to his feet, wincing again.

Gaddes let out a deep, anxious breath. His commander, for he will always be as such to him, looked a ragged, bloody mess. It was unnerving, how bloodied he'd gotten himself with one man's death. The look of rage upon his face was one that Gaddes won't soon forget. He took Allen's arm across his shoulders, leading him away from the mess.

          "What should we do with him?" he asked softly.

"I... I don't know," he murmured softly, shaking his head.  He could feel the blood beginning to dry, but he didn't bother with it.  

          When they returned home, the servants they ran upon stared in horror, knowing full well that if he was moving that well, then that blood most definitely wasn't his.  

"Just... I hope she doesn't see," he whispered softly.  Celena shouldn't have to see such a thing, not him like that.

"Don't worry, boss. We'll get you cleaned up before she ever sees you." Gaddes assured the man quietly. There were orders sent for a bath to be drawn, and Allen stayed in the bathing room very nearly the rest of the night. The soldier, of course, tactfully waited outside. It was like a ghost had claimed him in place of his friend, seeing him emerge from the room clean and pale.

          "Did you need me for anything else, Allen?" he asked kindly.

"The healer, boy... I can hardly walk with this damnable wound."  Allen hissed softly as he moved, guided by the wall.  "And tell Celena, if she wonders at any time while I was gone, that I was on a walk.  And I'll simply pray she doesn't find out about the wound."

"Right, the healer." Gaddes stood, guiding the fallen knight back to his room. "Maybe you should rest for a while, boss. I can take care of the wound until we can find a healer tomorrow. I don't know if you knew this but - it's a bit late at night right now."

"Ah, is it?  No, I hadn't known.  Very well..."  Allen eased himself onto the bed with a soft sigh, nodding to Gaddes.  "I trust your hands with my wounds.  It won't have been the first time, after all."

Gaddes started to reply, but stopped and remained silent. There were left over linen bandages from when Allen was injured by the riots, and the soldier gathered those and some iodine. "It's deep but it's clean." he said, examining the wound from beneath Allen's bed robes, and he immediately began applying the iodine.

Allen let him take care of the wounds, forcing the quivers out of his hands.  Looking back on what had happened, he was startled by his viciousness, his bloodthirsty manners.  

          "Let us simply hope that there's no infection or anything later, mm?"

"Well, we sure don't want a one legged blind man hopping around." Gaddes quipped, though his humor was short lived. He dressed Allen's wound just as he promised he would.

Allen smirked a little, shaking his head.  "Would you check on her since I obviously cannot...?"

"Of course." said Gaddes, and with Allen's thanks, he left. He wasn't gone very long, Celena's room being just down the hall from Allen's. Gaddes came back to Allen's bedside. "She was asleep just a second ago, before I popped my head in there to check on her like you said. But she's asking for you now."

"Ah?  Alright, then..."  Allen sighed softly, nodding.  He stood, careful not to put more weight than he had to on his leg, using the wall to guide him to her door.  "Gaddes... you know how much I appreciate all of your help," he murmured to his friend, clasping the other's shoulder tightly before he turned, sliding inside.  "Celena...?  What is it?"

"I had a bad dream." Celena admitted readily, quietly. She couldn't watch her brother, as all the lights were turned down in her room and the curtains were drawn that would not let in the moonlight.

Allen shifted to her bedside, drawing the curtains aside after a moment of grasping for it.  He sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing a little, opening his arms.  "Come to me... come here... it was just a dream."

          She went to him, lifting herself carefully so that she may embrace him. Something inside of her nagged and tugged at her heart when she did it, when she let him hold her. The strength of his arms frightened her and she tensed, but he was her brother. She forced herself to relax, trying to convince herself that she would be safe within his touch.

          "I will never love anyone so fully," she whispered, "I could never love anyone above you. I might have been wicked as a child. But even then, you were always like a prince to me."

"Don't say that, Celena... you were never wicked.  You deserve only he who would never hurt you. No man is worthy of your love, though I take it with the utmost gratitude and I return it tenfold."  He hugged his sister tight, though still gently, the damp warmth of his body, still slightly wet from his recent bathing, was comfortable, meant to be soothing. "He won't harm you again, Celena... no one will, I promise.  I'll always be your knight..."

"Always?" she asked breathlessly.

"Always and forever, I promise..."

As he spoke, she began to move her head, where it was nuzzling into the curve of his neck and her cheek rubbed against his own. He smelled of rosewater, clean and refreshing. His hair was damp against her nose. Slowly, so slowly, she moved and nuzzled - her nose brushing with his and her breath trembling.

Allen blinked slightly at the intimacy of the movements, but he didn't pull away, his heart beating quickly in his narrow chest.  She smelled finely, as she always did, her closeness made him feel easy and comforted, warm.

It was dark in her room, and her body still ached from the violation - but here before her was the only tangible thing that made it bearable, that made her forget her pain and sorrow. And in the dark, she could not see his face, knowing who it was she was giving affection to. She could not see his eyes as they stared in their personal darkness.

          Her breath was still trembling, her lips parted slightly and moistened. "Then am I a princess?" she whispered.

"You are more.  You are a queen," he murmured softly, his breath a warm puff against her flesh so close.  He would do anything for her, to save her.  Anything at all that she asked.  He was her knight, as he had pledged.

"Then kiss me. . ." she pleaded softly, so sadly. It did not take sight to be able to tell that her face must be twisted in sorrow and pain.

The request should have startled him.  It should have repulsed him.  He should have hesitated.

          But what she asked for was what he did.  Slowly, he closed the slight distance between them, brushing his lips tenderly against hers, his arms still comfortingly around her.  These movements he had made many times before with many other men and women, but with her, it was different...

Hot trails flowed down her cheeks, she moaned as if in physical pain - and in a way it was physical. Her heart suddenly ached, but it was mixed feelings. Confusion wracked her mind and plagued her, but love filled her heart. She knew who it was that she was kissing, had never touched these lips with her own, and yet they felt so familiar to her . . . they fit her own.

          She whimpered and pressed herself further into the forbidden kiss, her head cocked so that their noses just barely touched and snoodled.  He was so delightfully warm, her breasts pressed against his chest in their embrace, and she never lifted from the kiss to take breath until she felt she truly had no choice. 

Allen drew his soft lips faintly away from hers, though close enough he could still feel her hot breaths.  His body became suddenly aware of her closeness, the warmth that emanated from her... and how right it felt.  They fit together perfectly, the two of them, as if they were made for one another.

          The gentle hand at her waist was one that had lovingly cupped her cheek or patted her hair, grasped her own and led her around excitedly.  That, too, seemed to fit.

"I don't want a husband," Celena cried softly, licking her lips and taking shaky breaths. "I don't want one when I have you, Allen. I don't ever want to leave you for another man."

"No one would be worthy," he murmured, shaking his head slightly.  He held his sister on such a high pedestal... no one could ever be even with her.  No one.

"Stay with me, Allen." She pleaded, embracing him again, "Do not go back to your rooms. Stay in my bed tonight."

"I'll protect you," he whispered against her cheek, nodding slightly, tightening his hold on her slightly, protectively.

"Kiss me again, so that I may know you are real." she said.

"As you ask," was the softly murmured reply as he leaned in to softly brush his lips against hers.  Again, the actions were familiar, but different.  They meant more.

That night, all they did was hold each other. 


	5. Resolution

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Resolution**

Allen made sure that Celena did not move from her bed for the week Icarus had prescribed. Though even the young healer could sense a change in both siblings. He had lost his resolve for asking Celena to a lunch date, but hoped that their calls upon him and his peers would be scarce after so much tragedy befalling them. He left Allen's cold presence, feeling he was more protective of her than usual. 

          Gaddes was finally called back to the palace, having avoided his duties in the armed forces for more than two months due to his friend's ailments. Celena finally was able to leave her bed for more than a quick trip to her chamber pot, and she was glad that it did not hurt her anymore to do so. 

Allen had taken up his practice with his sword.  If he was her knight, then by God, he'd do it right.  He moved faster and easier, listened closer.  He'd gotten where he could move at a normal pace up and down the stairs without falling all over the place.  

          All in all, he was making progress and was thankful that Celena was getting better quicker.

Celena could not have been happier for her brother's recovery. With him always around her, the horror of what the highwayman had bestowed upon her was nearly forgotten. Not even an ache in her body to remind her of that horrible night. 

She decided to finally dress, in a day gown of sky blue with white pearl trim. The sleeves were abundant, as were the skirts. It felt as though the more cloth she wore, the harder it was to find her flesh beneath it. The heaviness of it was like a protective blanket. Primped and proper, like the kind of lady Allen had always loved to court, she stepped out of her room and went downstairs to meet him in the fields behind there home.

He was alone there this day, with Gaddes called back and her still supposedly inside.  He had set his boots and coat aside, the rapier carefully in hand as he swept through something of a kata.  He was light on his feet and with his eyes closed it seemed as if it was simply that.  That his eyes were closed... that any moment he would open his eyes and see the world around him.

          He was silent, besides the soft breathing and the rustle of his movements in the grass, the sing of the sleek blade cutting through the air.

"You seem to be doing better." Celena mused as she watched him from underneath a lemon tree. Her outfit was stunning, though he would never see it. She even bothered to wear gloves and bring with her the matching parasol. 

Gloves, as always, were worn.  He did what he could to keep calluses from forming on his own hands.  He easily finished up his kata, then turned his head towards her, offering a soft smile.  "It is becoming steadily easier, I do admit."

 Following her voice, he walked quietly over, boots and coat in hand.  He slid down to sit next to her, that faint smile lingering.  "And you... how are you?"

"I have no pains today. I am better as well." she said demurely, before reaching over and surprising him with a kiss. "I was thinking we might go to the city today."

Allen smiled softly and nodded a little, tracing his fingers over the full sleeves of her dress, the soft gloves that covered her dainty hands.  "You have dressed for it, mm?"

"I have indeed dressed for it. You bought me this gown not too long ago - it's sky blue with white and gold trim. Do you remember it?" She asked.

Allen smiled, brightening a little.  "I most certainly do.  I'm sure it looks stunning on you.  But come... I wouldn't shame you by going in this garb."  

"Nonsense," answered Celena hastily, eyeing her brother as he was dressed and secretly wishing such finery were on the floors of her bedchambers. "You - are most handsome in your attire. Please, please, let us go on an outing today. I want to parade down the streets with you as my escort." She said every word as she leaned in closer to him, and as he did not move from her advancing, she continued until their noses touched.

Allen laughed softly, nuzzling her nose with his own, standing and offering a hand.  "Nonsense yourself, my fair maiden.  If you are dressed as such, I should be as so beside you."

"Then what do you suggest, you smarmy airship captain." she teased.

Allen smiled, pulling her gently to her feet, slipping on his boots in a smooth motion, leading his way down the path he'd trodden many times towards the house, his fingers curling themselves into hers.

          He padded quietly up the steps, snatching up one of the maids and nudging her to his rooms.  He couldn't see the pieces in his wardrobe, after all.  He didn't want to mismatch or something, leaving his sister to wait patiently.

           The maid left his room giggling softly.  It was good to see them both in such good spirits and she was sure to tell Celena so, then bustle off to do her housework.  A short moments later, the blonde slid quietly out of his room, making his way down to where he'd left his sister.  The knee-length frock coat was fitted at the waist, a soft black color, the pants fit snugly, a smooth, soft black leather that betrayed their wear.  

Tucked cleanly into those piratey boots of his, a loose cream colored poet's shirt tied off at his waist by a silken blue sash, his hair rebrushed.  Stunning, just as his sister did.  And, as always, a pair of soft gloves, the sword word at his waist beneath the coat.  He carried it constantly with him again, a subtle reminder to himself and others of just who he was, even if he had suffered his blindness.

A small gasp came from Celena as he entered the parlor in such finery. She felt an ache in her chest again, the same one from that first night when they kissed. He was so beautiful to her, so fine, so delicate. "You are truly a noble gentlemen, Allen. You're so dashing, if you could look at herself in the mirror, I would be afraid that you would fall in love with yourself." And she went to him to take his hands.

Allen laughed, shaking his head, offering an all too roguish smile.  "Or at least I can look the part of a gentleman, mm?  Only fitting enough that I go with the most beautiful woman.  Come, let us go to town, as you said."

The carriage ride wasn't so dreary or depressing. In fact, if anything, Celena was excited to take the ride - she found something in her brother that none other can fill. But she was hard pressed to describe what, exactly, it was about him that made him so different from other men. Surely it was more than just his treatment of her.

          Perhaps it was that he could never look at her, never see her, and really truly see how disgusting and undesirable she must be. His eyes would never hold disdain for her, never glare at her. They would eternally be soft cornflower blue that simply stared into nothingness. And his lips would always be there to kiss her fears away. He was not wracked with wantonness.

          Thus, with his hand gripping around the many folds of her sleeves to be guided by her arm, they walked along the cobblestone paths, following the canals of their fair city, and avoided the sections where devastation and famine still lingered. "We could have lunch here, Allen. Would you like that?"

"Would it please you?  I would do it so."  Allen smiled softly, walking with her, led by her arm.  he did not mind so much anymore.  He didn't mind the stares he got... he, once a knight respected, now cast aside for his injury.  He could not see them, no.

          But all that mattered was the fact that Celena was there beside him.  That was what mattered.  He knew she would never hate him so, never push him away because of his blindness.  She was a kind woman, perfect.  The event with the highwayman had strengthened her and their bond.

           Though he had never spoken to her of the highwayman's fate.  That was one secret he would keep close, untouched.  She did not have to know.

"We're going into a cafe now, Allen. And there are three steps." she said to him, leaning to his ear so that her voice was not carried over to uninvited ears. They had to stop to wait for Allen to gather how far apart the steps were, stepping up and inside. It was a refreshing little place, inside the cafe. The walkways outside around the little cafe were drenched with water, cooling the indoors dramatically. There were fans above them in the dining room, and plants of all kinds all along the walls.

          It was truly a breathable cafe and very comfortable for weary lungs. There were led to a table in the corner and were handed menus before being left to decide on what to order.

          "Hmm," said Celena, scanning down the list of choices, "Oh, baked salmon with a lemon pepper crust. Or the baked chicken with the mushroom sauce and rice pilaf and Freid cabbages sautéed in a sherry wine. . . and for desert Goat cheese cheesecake in a hazelnut crust with raspberry puree. It's so hard to decide."

Allen smiled softly, head tilted to the side a little, pondering over her kindness.  She knew his pride was dear to him still, what bit of it he had left, and even though many knew of his blindness, she would be subtle about it.  He was thankful for it.

          "Choose for me, surprise me," he said with that roguish smile, sitting across from her, legs crossed beneath the tables, long blonde hair pooling at his waist against the chair where he sat.   

The waitress came by, a flurry of ribbons and ruffles moving about her ankles. She had a short half-apron on and came up to their table with a smile. "Something to drink, miss?" she asked Celena.

          "_Vino_, please." answered the noble girl.

           "And would he like something to drink as well?" asked the waitress, having noted the vacant gaze of the young man in this woman's company.

"The same, if you will, ma'am."  Allen turned his head towards the waitress, offering a soft smile.  Undoubtedly she noticed... how could you not?  He'd seen blind men before.  It was only a pity that he had turned out the same.

The waitress left them once more to fetch a bottle of _vino_ for them. Celena looked to her brother, her hand automatically searching for his underneath the table.

          "Are you alright?" she asked worriedly.

Allen blinked slightly, curling his fingers around hers and smiling.  "Of course.  I am with you, how could I not be?"

"It's just," she sighed, "Allen, I will not hide the fact that I worry about you. You have been doing so well lately, and I couldn't be more happy for you. But I know you're not used to being around people yet."

"It's alright, Celena, I promise.  I have you, do I not?  And what does it matter... I cannot see their faces anyhow.  You need not worry.  I will not be foolish enough to draw away as I had done before."

"It just makes me wonder," she said dejectedly, "What else could possibly go wrong in our lives. I'm only 18. Here you are, a dashing 23 year old nobleman. How much more tragedy must we suffer?"

"Don't you worry over it, Celena, we shall be fine.  We have pulled through what we have, yes?  Then we will do so if there is any other trouble, as well."  Allen smiled reassuringly.

"Of course. Yes, we will be fine." she hung her head, "Allen, I - I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yes, what is it?"  Allen cocking his head to the side slightly, looking sightlessly over at her.

"Well, it was about - us." and she squeezed his hand, partly afraid of the line of conversation she was about to engage in, anxious of what might come of it. "Allen, is it wrong of me to want children?"

"It is a woman's way.  It is not unnatural."  Allen had dreams, before all this, of having a son.  Raising him as he was raised.  Or a daughter, to spoil with gifts, a little princess.

          But what would it seem to be to the public eye?  There would be no convincing those who looked closely that it was, say, the child of her attacker.  There would be no sign of it in the children.  Was it so wrong for her to want children?  No.  Was it so wrong to want children with her brother?  Many would say yes.

          But Celena was perfect to him.  What would be wrong about it?

"There are many in this world who would say what we're doing is wrong." bemoaned Celena, "And I cannot help but take heed to some of what they say. The children from such close familial ties - they are stillborn, or worse . . . I have heard it somewhere, read it somewhere, that such parents cannot have normal children. As if the gods makes sure to forbid it."

"I would not know of such things, I am sad to say."  Though it was true, wasn't it?  Normal children were not born to such parents.  "If they say it is wrong, what does it matter?  Celena it is what you think that matters."

"Allen," she said quietly, having to stop briefly while the waitress brought their _vino_ to them, setting the glasses down and pouring before going back to her duties - since their menus were still open and indicated that they were not ready to order. 

With a vengeance, she grabbed the glass of _vino_, gulped it down until her cheeks were flushed with heat. "Would you be my husband?"

After the question, there was a silence that hung between them that was almost dread.  So long it seemed to span, him sitting there with the glass of wine in hand, thinking.  Would he be her husband?  Oh, if only he was worthy of such an honor.  The be hers, to be with her always.  Such an honor.

           "I am undeserving... but I would.  It would please me to be yours."

"I would ask for nothing else in the world," said Celena in a tone of underlying sadness, "if I could have you by my side. I would forsake the very breath from my body if it meant to live in eternity with you." Such was the way of a young and tattered heart, full of woes and pains of love for their beloved. 

Celena wonder if Allen even felt the same way, all her words sounding so foolish to her ears. She, herself, could hardly believe them

"Don't speak like that.  I wouldn't have you do such a thing for me.  Remember?"  Allen smiled softly, reassuringly, he hoped.  "I am your knight..."  Allen's words were soft and full of meaning, full of the gnawing at his heart.  He felt the same way, the same perfection when they were near.  That... couldn't be wrong, could it?

"And what sort of wedding would we have, Allen. What ring would I bear on my finger? My only wish is to be with you for the rest of my life, for I could never bring myself to love another - but is this folly?"

"Small... something just for us.  Anything you want.  Anything.  I simply want to be at your side... and I couldn't care less what others thought of it.  Only you and I, we are the only ones that matter in this.  The only ones."

Celena was about to reply, but the waitress came back asking for their orders. The girl was very short with the waitress, finally deciding on the salmon for both of them just so that the meddlesome waitress would leave them to their conversation. She poured herself more _vino_ - of which she drank down in nearly one gulp again - and took a breath.

 "No temple will marry us, Allen." she said, "You know this."

"Who needs a temple, Celena?  All that matters is that we know."  Allen shook his head slightly, a faint smile on his lips.  "Ceremony or not, I'll easily pledge myself to you."

"And I to you . . . Allen," she replied. Silently, she wondered if she would ever be able to call him brother again. She'd fallen in love with the ideal of him, her brother being the only person able to fill such a role of her ideal. "Where should we marry then?"

"It doesn't matter.  Wherever you so choose, I will follow."  She, after all, was the one that would see it.  Not to say that it wasn't meaningful to himself, either.  The idea of it sent thrills through him, made him smile.

"Would we have witnesses?" Her voice was growing soft, the wine taking it's toll on her demeanor and making her fatigued at midday.

"We could.  Or we could keep it a secret.  It matters not.  Either way I will be beside you, and that's what matters."

"The beach by our home, then. You may not see the ocean, but you could at least be surrounded by the scents of our childhood. I won't even dress elaborately - since I won't have to, for what good would it do? We will have no witnesses, and a simple band for each other's fingers." It was like she was describing a fond dream, her tone whimsical and distant. "I don't care what anyone might say, or think - it's just us, now. Right?"

"It is... for now and forever and after that."  Allen nodded, smiling a bit.  "You will be beautiful any way you choose.  An angel..."  Allen sipped his wine idly.  "Perfect, just like you always are."

Celena, of course being ever tactful, said nothing. They were served their lunch and enjoyed it in each other's pleasant company. Although, a problem did arise, after Celena had had so much _vino_ that she found herself leaning on her brother. She occasionally had to close one eye to see straight. Still, they continued on down the streets of Palas - the markets were not as bustling today, thankfully. 

          "Should we visit the palace, Allen?" asked Celena, the question coming from very much out of the blue. Her mind must not have been in their complete wits from so much drink and dreaming. "Say hello to the princesses?"

"Are you sure you're up to it?"  Allen wasn't sure he was, but if Celena wished it... then by God, he'd take her there.  "After all, you can hardly walk straight."  Allen had an arm about her waist to keep her steady, as well as to keep a hold on her as she led him.

"And you would know this how?" she asked playfully, poking him in the side.

Allen blinked slightly, arching a brow.  "You're leaning on me.  You can't stand by yourself."  It wasn't a chiding tone, no, but teasing, amused.

Celena sighed, "Yes, let's go visit the palace. Maybe Millerna would let us walk the gardens. She's your friend, right?" She was speaking most abnormally - her speech not quite the most coherent. In fact, it darn near child-like but it could not be helped. She was, indeed, in high spirits and only wanted to spend the day with her brother.

"She is... something of that sort, yes.  Very well, then... lead on, shall you?"  Allen inclined his head slightly.  He wasn't sure what to expect.  He hadn't spoken to Millerna since... well, he was hard-pressed to remember a time after Allen had retrieved his sister.  


	6. Mourning and Ceremony

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Mourning and Ceremony**

The upper district of Palas was not very far from the palace, which loomed above all the buildings of the city. Allen was recognized at the gates so the guards did not inhibit their passage to the front courtyard of the grand palace. Stewards and guards by the door were alerted to their visit as soon as they saw the siblings walking down the gravel.

          One steward, frantic about this surprise, hurried up to them as soon as they'd reached the steps to the palace. "Sir Schezar and Lady Celena. Might I inquire as to your business at the palace?"

"Is Princess Millerna here?"  It had been awhile since he'd been here and the frantic, but still comforting air was familiar to him, the scents.  The air of authority still lingered there and even though he wore not his uniform anymore, even though he was no longer a knight... he was treated with respect here.  

"A-Allen . . ." Celena's eyes cleared a bit when she finally saw why everyone was so frantic, looking up at the tall spires of the palace.

           The steward answered the former knight in a clipped tone. "She is here, sir. But she is not to be disturbed today."

Allen blinked, arching a brow, turning his head slightly towards Celena, a faint frown tugging on his lips.  "What is it?" He whispered softly, panic fluttering in his chest.

"There's black flags . . . on the towers." She said softly to his ear, while at the same time giving a glare to the steward who was staring at them impatiently.

          "King Aston has passed away." said the steward angrily, "Did you not notice the mourning flags flying?"

Allen tensed, his unseeing eyes widening slightly.  He turned his head towards the steward, shaking his head slightly.  "I... I cannot see them, no."  The man he had served valiantly, he had pledged his life as a knight to him... now he was gone.

           Allen bowed his head slightly.  Of course Millerna would not be disturbed.  

 The blonde lightly tugged his sister back, turning to leave.  "Let us be gone from here, Celena..."

Celena nodded and was about to lead him away from the palace, but a commanding voice stopped them and made her quickly turn around.

           "Let them through." said a woman. It was Millerna herself, standing there in the grand archway of the front palace. "Fideress, do you not know Sir Allen Schezar? You will let them pass immediately."

          The steward known as Fideress was struggling to find something to say, some argument. All he had been told was that the princesses were not to be disturbed. But he turned back to the awaiting siblings and motioned them onward toward the palace. Hesitantly, Celena began to lead them back where Millerna now stood.

Allen was regretfully silent as they approached her, the air of mourning falling heavy on his shoulders.  The air was thick with it, how had he not noticed it before?  Sir Allen... it was not his title anymore, but he did not mention it.  The blonde bowed his head to the princess.  "My sincerest regrets of the king's passing, princess."

"Allen," said the princess tearfully, paying little to no heed to the girl on his arm, "It has been far too long. Please, come inside." And she started walking away from them, leading them indoors through lavish hallways of red carpets and white marble. They came to some rooms, an unflattering meeting room with books on shelves and a few plants here and there. 

          There was a window, and Celena thought her brother might like to sit in the sunshine, so she led him to a seat wreathed in it. Secretly she was thinking that the king deserved his fevered death, having been bitter about the man's very existence since the riots and Allen losing his sight. She took a seat next to her brother, watching the graceful princess - who did not sit - but rather stood and paced a bit.

          Millerna looked to Celena. "And you are Allen's sister, yes?" she asked. Celena could feel a knot of rage form in her gut, just by Millerna's speaking. 

"She is, yes.  Celena."  Allen inclined his head slightly to Millerna, turning his head towards her.  "It would do you good not to pace so, princess.  You and your sister must be strong for the people in this time.  Relax slightly.  You were never one for such anxieties."  

"I grieve my father's death, Allen." she said impatiently, "That is not why I grow anxious." Though she sat anyway, across from the former knight and gazing at him with a fondness she knew he couldn't see. "I was there when you were forced to resign. I begged my father to not make it so, but he wouldn't listen to me."

"It was for the best, Millerna, you know this.  I have difficulty defending myself.  What good would I have been to the king?"  Though his resignation still hurt tremendously.  "Pray tell me, then... what is it that bothers you so, if it is not the king's passing?"

"Eries has receded from the line to the throne." said Millerna miserably, "I'm sure you've retained quite a bit of your knowledge of politics to understand what that means."

"I'm sure I can imagine, yes," murmured the blonde, cocking his head to the side slightly, arching a brow.  "Do not be so miserable, princess..."

"I will not be a princess for much longer." she whimpered, "They're going to crown me queen. I have no king by my side, as Dryden has not returned to me. Allen - They already speak of the coronation, of the ceremony, a ball. I cannot do this! It's too soon. . ."

           "Princess Millerna," said Celena, "I'm sorry but - my brother has been through many hardships lately. I do not see a reason for you to complain to him like this." She made her words deliberately cold, the wine they had with their lunch was still giving her unnecessary courage. She even stood to make her statement more pronounced. After all, they'd come here to visit, not for her brother to bend his ear to the woes of a princess.

          "I - I beg your pardon?" said the princess, completely taken aback. "Dear lady, I . . ."

          Celena cut her off, her gaze upon the princess stern like ice. "Please refrain from raising your voice to him."

"Celena, please."  He rested a hand on his sister's arm, shaking his head.  "Please, princess.  I have been at your side long enough for you to know that I will hear your grievances.  Celena has had a bit too much to drink this day."

          He was not brushing aside his sister, but he still felt a loyalty to the royal family.  He would hear her troubles, he had no reason not to.

          "What is it that you might ask me to do to help?"

"Allen." Millerna began, her eyes staring at Celena warily as the noble lady sat back down - on her brother's insistence. "Word came to me that you were training with the sword again. Is this true?"

"I am.  You should know me well enough to know that I will not let this run my life.  I will overcome it.  Why is it that you ask...?"

"I - I want to correct the mistakes my father made. To his people, yes - of which I've already taken strides to distribute food to the lower classes. But most of all to those who were most loyal to him - to this country." She stood again, coming around the table so that she may take Allen's hand. Her voice was so full of sadness, but so sincere and she did not care if the girl he claimed to be his sister was staring daggers at her. "Allen, please, tell me how I might be able to give you life again?"

"You would not have me as one of your knights, princess.  I would be a hindrance.  Scherezade is useless to me.  What good would I prove to you?"  Allen smiled almost sadly.  It was unlike him to admit his weaknesses, to point them out so obviously.  He had changed much in certain ways... but in essence, he was still the same.

"I would have to agree with Sir Schezar." said a new voice, a very downtrodden baritone. Oh, but a beautiful baritone nonetheless. Millerna stood and turned to greet the man.

          "Sir Elden Castell," she said, "You know Sir Allen Schezar from the Knight's Caeli. Allen, you might remember Sir Castell. He was also a Caeli Knight - the other who was forced to resign." She gazed at the one-armed knight sadly, nodding and permitting him to enter. He did so quickly, embarrassed, and sat down with mumbled greetings to Celena and Allen.

Allen turned his head towards the other man and nodded to him.  "I do.  I would not forget those I was so honored to serve beside."  Allen was silent for a moment, still, before he turned his sightless gaze back to Millerna, waiting her continuance.

It was Elden who spoke, however. "The princess, who is soon to be queen, fancies us to be accepted back into our regiment." he spoke bitterly, as if he had not yet come to terms with his own loss and therefore had little patience or sympathy for Allen's.

"Though I see not the point, I would honorably accept.  We would not be the most useful of knights, princess.  While your heart is in the right place--and I am thankful for your kindness--would it not be better for your people to have those within the knighthood who would benefit it, not hinder it?  Because we are... and I am most regretful to even speak it so... cripples, in the end."

Celena watched Elden visibly tense at the word mentioned, take a sidelong glance to his empty right sleeve before staring down at the table as if to burn a hole through it. "And what of you, Sir Schezar," he asked, knowing the princess was watching them in a mixture of horrific fascination and pity. "You are a nobleman, like the rest of us. Exactly what have you been doing to support your family? Yourself?"

          "Sir Elden," said Millerna, but she was stopped by the embittered man.

"With all due respect, princess. Please let him answer." and Celena saw his most intense gaze on her brother. 

"Nothing.  To be bitterly honest," Allen murmured, his head slightly bowed, "I almost lost myself to my grief at losing what I held dear to me, what I had worked so hard to become.  Losing my sight was bad enough... but I should have known that losing the honor of being a knight would follow soon after.  Even still... words cannot explain my grief, though I am rather sure you, yourself, can fathom it, Sir Elden."  

 The blonde sighed softly, shaking his head a little.  "I am a soldier above whatever else I might be and I do miss the field.  I do miss what I had gained.

           But what can a blind man do here?  I have lost much pride and it pains me so.  Knowing that I cannot see the... pitying glances they give me, how can I face them?  How can I find myself among them?  They are whole, even if they are poor.  Me?  I am a shadow of who I was. I have been able to do nothing for my family, what of it remains."

Celena clenched Allen's hand, the sadness on her face unwarranted but could not be helped, and she could not interrupt them. Her touch was all she had to offer, and she hoped that it was enough. Elden continued his gaze at Allen, who did not react to the anger that was clearly building on the former knight's features.

           "You do not know your luck, Sir Schezar." he said coldly, "You mastered the sword so young, gained knighthood - you do not need eyes to wield a sword, nor to hear the enemy's cry, or to feel the swing of the blade. I have but one arm left and I cannot even hold a sword properly. It is a mockery that you dare even pity yourself with all that you still retain."

          "Sir Elden!" Millerna was practically shocked at the forwardness of the knight, for it was most definitely not chivalric behavior. "I will not have an argument in this room. Please, we meet civilly here."

"Princess, please."  Allen raised a hand to quiet her.  "He is correct.  I have been very fortunate and I am aware of that.  I do grieve for your loss, do not mistake me for not being so.  I fought beside you, I know you... you are still a brother to me.  I do not try to belittle your losses in the least.  Forgive me for making it seem so, it is I who should have realized it and stilled my tongue.  

          But in the end, are we not all fortunate?  Even if we have been broken, you and I, we are still alive... and that there shows that we were meant to live for some other purpose.  I am not one to believe in fate and gods, per say... but you cannot deny that it could have been far worse for the both of us."

"I see your purpose and will to live - for the pretty young lady that sits beside you." Elden's voice quieted, "You are right, of course. I only lost my arm, you your sight. We are still of use to someone, are we not?"

         "You can still be of use to this kingdom," said Millerna, looking at both of them shrewdly, "The positions in the knights have not been filled, and I will gladly grant them back to you. You both know that it takes months to fill the Caeli regiment anyway."

Allen sighed softly, shaking his head.  "Together or not at all, is how it will be decided.  Will you, then, stay at my side, Sir Elden, and I at yours?  No matter the decision, I will offer my aid if you ever need it and I can only hope the same from you."

Millerna saw that Elden was seriously mulling it over, thinking about it very hard. He had lost his pride, his honor, his title - but it was the same for Allen. And something passed through his features, his expression turning into one of determination and confidence. He stood quickly, pursing his lips. Millerna was about to offer her second plan, thinking that Elden might be ready to refuse her first offer. But to her delight and surprise, he did not.

          Elden put his only remaining fist to his heart in a salute to his blind comrade. "I will be honored to serve with you, Sir Allen Schezar. Together, like it should be among the Knights, is what we will be. I will not let this conquer my life."

"And I will give you my aid, my brother."  Allen stood calmly from his seat, turning his gaze to the other man and mimicking his movement, a movement they both knew well enough.  "I swear by my sword and my life and my honor."

           The silence from the other had gnawed at him, but he was delighted to find his acceptance.  He would not have agreed to it unless he had.  A small, personal show of respect for the other.  

Celena nearly cried. Millerna had tears welling up as well, and her voice was tight. "You will be knighted the day after my coronation - in one week. By the gods, I will make it so no matter what might stand in the way. Jechia bless you both in her glorious waves." The tears could not be helped, though she tried so very hard to keep them from her voice when she quickly excused herself.

          Celena finally stood from her seat, beside her brother who had a look of utter pride on his face. Elden too, looked like he was near breaking down and crying, but he was too strong, too proud for the moment. 

"We should be a most interesting pair on the field." he said tightly.

"We should... and you and I will be all that much prouder for it."  Allen's voice quivered slightly with the surge of emotions he felt.  He was slowly grasping, gaining back his life.  Wrenching it back from whatever hands had taken it.

          Pride, honor, glory... they all surged forward with the greatest relief.

          He wanted to cry.  To sob in his joy... but men, nae, knights... knights did not cry.

          "Celena... where is Gaddes?  Did he say?"

If Allen did not let out a sob, Celena did it for him. Her tears rushed forth like a cascade of diamonds on porcelain. "He - he," she was just so full of happiness, she had to take breaths in-between sobs just to speak clearly, "North - Fort _Castelo_. . . rebuilding."

"He must be told.  Nae... nae, I will go to him."  Allen smiled, nodding.  "When we have been knighted, I will find him and once more pull him to my side, even if the others will not come."  Sliding his way carefully towards the other man, he reached out, clasping the other's shoulders tightly.  

          "More than honored."

Elden brought up his hand to clasp Allen's at his armless shoulder. "I am privileged." was all he could say for the joy that he felt. "Please allow me to escort you out with your wife." 

          Celena looked at Elden, surprised, but if Elden in fact noticed he made no show of it in his face. He simply continued to gaze at her blind brother with the same amount of pride that overwhelmed the room.

Allen paused, but shook his head slightly.  "I would be honored."  Allen turned his sightless gaze towards his sister, holding out his hand to her.  His entire being thrummed with pride and excitement, glory and honor that had been restored.

Elden did as he insisted, and escorted them to the foyer where he took his leave of them, with promises of training and celebration later.

It was almost a rush with how quickly Allen and Celena were driven home in their carriage, Celena having stared for so long, and only finding the solace in their own parlor to really break down and cry from all the happiness she felt.

          There was hardly any consoling her, even as she buried her face in her hand and fell to her knees before finding the couch to sit on.

Allen nodded to the promises, looking forward to them.  He'd aid Elden in what he could with his swordplay, to help him build up the strength in his remaining arm.  Promises of furthering their brotherhood.  Allen found himself a chair, sinking into it silently, staring at the floor unseeingly for a long moment before he brushed tears from his blind eyes with a hand that he noted shaking.

"With what little hope we had left - what little pride . . . oh, Allen," she cried, "We'll be okay now, won't we? Everything will be fine?"

"It will be," he muttered, shoulders shaking with his joy.  The whole ordeal was taxing, the joy flowing through him immeasurable.

"I don't think I could have been happier that the king finally rid us of his cruelty." Celena said bitterly.

"Don't speak such things, Celena... his death is mournful.  I cannot say the same for his treatment of the people, but his forcing myself and Sir Elden to resign was just and a wise decision."

"No," she returned fiercely, "His forcing you to guard the palace gates and letting you and Sir Elden become maimed in the process was the worst of injustices. His treatment of the people is what caused the riot that blinded you, Allen. Do you not remember?"

          "Of course I remember.  But you look at it from a woman's view, Celena.  I knew the dangers that were posed for me when I became a knight, a soldier.  It was our duty to defend the palace, as well as those who stood within it.  It was our duty, Celena."

"A woman's view, yes." she answered despairingly, wiping away at her tears, though they still flowed. She stood and moved to Allen's side, taking his hand into her own. "I still cannot imagine your hardship - but in a way, I . . . no, I'm just so proud of you. How you've changed in two months." And she placed his hand on her face. "How I wish I could make you proud of me."

"I am always proud of you, Celena, always.  There is nothing wrong with you... nothing."  Allen clasped his hand against the other's, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Well, so much for my dream to be a knight too." she laughed lightly, finally being able to dry her face, "Not that you would have approved of it. Do you suppose I could still train with you and Sir Elden now that you'll be knighted again?"

"I suppose you might, yes.  My... wife."  He smiled softly, nodding.  "It would be a good learning experience, surely."

"You're wife," Celena mused, "I would want nothing more but - Sir Elden might not know. Surely the princess does. Gaddes knows who we are . . . we can't lie to everyone . . ."

"No, we cannot."  Allen smiled, brushing his fingers against her cheek.  "We will figure out what to do..."

Celena nodded while his hand was still by her cheek. "One week and you can wear your uniform again. You'll be knighted, Allen!" She stood suddenly, taking his hand and pulling, "The airship! We need to have it prepared! Surely you'll be posted somewhere - or something, I'm not sure how it works. Come, come! I want to be part of your crew! Navigator!" she giggled childishly, her skirts flowing about her as she bounced happily.

Allen laughed softly, shaking his head.  "I'll take you with me, of course, if you wish it."

"I do wish it." she gazed at him softly, ceasing in her childish bouncing and now simply standing in front of him. Gently, she slid into his lap, letting her skirts settle about their legs like a blanket, and cupped his face. It still broke her heart that his eyes would never see her, but it could hardly be helped - no matter how hard she stared into their deep blue depths. She was about to ask a question, but instead kept her silence and kissed him suddenly, deeply.

Allen blinked slightly, but didn't pull away, returning the kiss in kind, his unseeing eyes half closed, arms loosely about her waist.

Reluctant to pull back from such tenderness, Celena stayed with her lips pressed to his for another moment or two. Sapphire orbs danced with light as they filled with rainbows and love. "Promise me something," she said tightly.

"What is it?"  Allen stroked her hip softly, waiting for her to continue.

Bringing her nose close to his and snoodling him fondly she said, "Please don't get yourself killed. . ." 

"I won't, I promise."  Allen smiled, brushing his fingers against his sister's cheek softly.


	7. Fort Castelo

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Fort****Castelo******

With all the activity that was taking place at the palace, twice as much was happening at the Schezar estate. Celena was in a state of disarray as she looked for something suitable to wear to her brother's knighting - not so much concerned about Millerna's coronation that they were required to attend, as respected members of the court. 

Elden surprised them with a visit somewhere during mid-week, having admitted that he was only a little embarrassed to start training so soon after the loss of his arm. Elden had been right, Celena thought, Allen and he certainly did make an odd pair out in the field when they practiced - or tried to. Elden's grip on his sword did not last for very long lengths of time, and Allen needed to concentrate on the sounds of Elden's footsteps and movements which was nearly impossible above the din of the breeze. Though at that point, Celena decided she should help them. 

          Elden continued to assume that Celena was Allen's wife, disregarding how alike they looked. But neither of the siblings bothered to correct him. It wasn't the truth, but in a way it wasn't necessarily a lie. Just a secret they liked to keep to themselves. 

          The coronation came with a large ceremony to conclude it, but she was not nearly as excited for the crown placed Millerna's head as she was for the sword that would grace her brother's shoulder in the following day. Mid-day after the coronation, and there was just as much activity as there was a week ago at the palace. Celena watched Allen during the ride in the carriage, and noted how he carried himself with more dignity. He wore his uniform again on that day, and she could not stop her fingers running over the canvas at his chest, tracing around the gold braids and buttons.

           "You look so beautiful," she said to him wistfully.

Allen smiled proudly over at her, clasping her hand to his chest.  "Certainly nowhere near as wonderful as you."  His body thrummed with his excitement.  

He slipped carefully out of the carriage, helping her out as well.  He'd rehearsed this over and over in his mind, remembering how it had been before.  He felt the same way.

          The fanfare was out, the other knights watching as he and Elden both took their places.  More than willing to accept them back, injured as they were.  Brothers in arms, all of them.

The procession was so lovely. Elden leading Allen with his remaining arm, the empty sleeve at his right side neatly pinned. Allen had his head held so very high, so proud he looked taller than he already was. Celena could only watch from the side, her heart beating so hard in her chest, she thought it would burst.

          Though the procession was supposed to be traditional, the knight's keeping their silence and saluting with their swords raised, there were many of them that simply could not stop themselves from shouting out in congratulations. All the Knights Caeli were choked up, some had tears they refused to wipe away.

          "Hail, Sir Allen!" said one, stricken with emotion, his blade held solidly in the air. "Hail, Sir Elden!"

          "To arms, brothers!" cried the eldest knight, looking on as they walked by them like a proud father, "Our comrades have returned! To honor! To glory! To Chivalry!" The emotion in the grand hall would fill a thousand halls, and sink a thousand ships by their honor for each other alone.

Allen felt himself getting choked up at the way they were accepted back, his hand clasping Elden's arm tightly.  They truly were brothers all of them.  He was silent throughout the knighting, though oh!  How much he wanted to join them in their cries!  

          There was no contempt there among them, all of them as kind as they had been before.  Fathers, brothers, teachers, all of them.  And here they were, accepting them back.

          The day went by in a blur, his joy, his excitement falling off him in waves.  He was a knight... he could remember crying, tears slipping over his pale cheeks, gloved hands shaking as he lifted them to wipe away his tears.  Gods... what more could he ask for?

Night fall came all too soon. There were no more candles in Allen's room, as he had little need for them. With the excitement of the whole day wearing down on him, Celena imagined he would have gone straight to bed, to be ready to receive orders in the morning. What ever came, she would be there next to him. 

          She assumed he might have still been asleep, and simply wanted to surprise him when he woke up in the morning and letting him discover her huddled tight next to his lean body. She slipped into his chamber silently, wearing nothing but her cotton nightgown, and slid gently into his bed.

Allen slept silently, scatterings of golden locks smattered across the soft, white pillows.  The sunlight streamed across them, but did not wake him from his darkness, curled up lightly on his side, resting.  But soon enough, he flickered unseeing eyes open and shifted, pausing at the warmth at his back.  He blinked, then smiled softly sighing a little.  He could stay a little longer.

Gaddes.  He had to find Gaddes, surprise him.  He flew out with Celena on a chartered airship from the capital. It was a massive ship, and it towed the Crusade behind it as his little skiff's levistones floated idly. Wearing his pristine uniform once more, he often stood on a terrace of the ship, long blonde hair free against the air.  Beautiful, noble, knightly.  

          The ride to the Fort Castelo from the airship dock was quick and simple, uneventful.  Allen shushed those outside.  He didn't want to alert Gaddes to his presence too soon.  One of the others there led him through what had been rebuilt, navigating carefully towards where Gaddes worked.  Allen simply beamed... but bit it back.  If only he could see the shock on his friend's face when he told him.

There had been murmurs of great surprise, gossiping among the men as Allen was led passed them, recognizing the fluttering blonde locks as he strode passed them and wondering if their former commander was really back. All of them poked their heads out of the various rooms they worked in, stopping their hammering and plastering, just to get a glimpse of the Knight's backside. They looked at each other in wonderment and went back to work quickly. They would find out soon enough.

           Meanwhile, Gaddes worked on repairing a wall that had falling inward. Planks were just being set into the floor and mortar was applied to the stones of the walls. The soldier was covered in alabaster dust, like many of the rest of them who worked to bring their fort back up. He was hammering nails into the planks of the floor when Kio came into the disheveled room, following closely by Allen.

           The nails that Gaddes had in his mouth dropped to the half-finished floor, unheeded, the hammer poised in mid-motion. His jaw literally dropped at the sight of him, total loss for words as he stared - here was his captain returned, pristine and refined as he had been the very first day the young noble came to the post of Fort Castelo.

"I pray you're all working quickly enough, eh?  Because as soon as this gets done, we're back on duty."  Allen flashed a bit of his old roguish grin, cocking his head to the side slightly.  Oh, he was back... confident, full of pride and honor, just as before.  Only... more so.  The vibrancy that followed him beat harder within him, his energy renewed.

          The young commander inclined his head slightly to his friend, whom he was sad he could not see.  "Well?"

For many long, painful moment, Gaddes simply could not reply. There was a heavy drumming in his chest, much like the hammer he'd been using to repair the floor. He could not help but stare at the refined figure in front of him, before moving quickly and embracing the man before Allen could get any warning.

          "By Jechia - and I've never prayed a day in my life, I thank the gods." and this coming from a man who was rarely so formal in words.

Allen laughed softly, hugging Gaddes back.  "You don't know how good it feels to be back here, to be back in this uniform, my friend.  It feels like forever and a day since I've been a part of this."

"But - boss, how did they accept you back?" he asked, bewildered as he pulled away and contented himself in simply grasping the man's arms. He'd gotten dust on Allen's uniform, and lightly thought it better he was blind to it, if just for that. 

"The king has passed away and Millerna has taken up the throne.  The ranks had not been filled... and she took both myself and Sir Elden back.  Oh, by Jechia... the ceremony, Gaddes... I've never felt so welcomed.  By the end, we were all crying.  It was... oh, words cannot describe it.  It was amazing."  Allen shook his head slightly, that smile on his lips.  

"Does this mean you'll bossing us around again, boss?" That was Riden, with his high voice that always sounded strangely sardonic but full of humor. He'd come from one of the rooms he was working in and snuck up behind Allen, peeking around the tall figure.

Allen turned his head slightly towards him, smirking.  "Better believe it.  You're going to be doing my slave work all over again."  The blonde grinned, his high spirits returned.  It would be like old times, for the most part.

But Riden noticed that odd something about his commander's gaze. The stiffness of his head - the little guy was never really one for tact. His eyebrow arched dramatically, mouth down turned in a half frown. "What happened to the boss?" he chirped, as if asking the time of day, "He ain't lookin' at anythin' . . ."

           Kio, who led Allen to the room, hit Riden over the head, making the little guy yelp and rub the offending crown. "He's blind, idiot." Gaddes could only groan.

"You heard about the riot, certainly, outside the palace gates?"  It was almost nonchalant, the way he spoke of it.  It still hurt to think of, but he'd forced himself to move past it.  It was something he would have to deal with, after all.  "It happened then.  There was nothing we could do, really.  I was fortunate that my sight was all I lost."  

"Whoa, boss. . ." said the untactful Riden, "How're you supposed to fight like that?"

           Kio hit him again. "Can't you shut up?"

Allen grinned a little, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword.  He'd certainly gotten a lot better at it since Gaddes had last seen him.  "Shall we see, eh?"  The blonde just grinned, good naturedly, of course.

There was an uproar of cheers, that came from more than just three men in the room Allen stood in. The whole of the soldiers who worked in the hallway joined in on the hurrahs, some already making quick runs outside to get a good seat. Their commander had come back, and he was going to put on a show - they always liked to watch the Knight's sparring sessions. He just was that damn good.

          Gaddes, shirtless from working on repairs, grabbed his sword with a large grin and they were ushered out into the dirt courtyard. Celena had been chatted up by one of the soldiers outside, and as Allen passed her, she quickly excused herself and ran to his side. 

           "What's going on?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm going to reassure them, Celena, don't worry."  Allen laughed a bit, shaking his head, walking outside.  Once there, he drew his sword, standing at a ready with the sword tip down.  His fighting style had changed dramatically to fit his new handicap, and it worked out for the better.  It was still showy, of course, but faster and more efficient.  

          Light on his feet, the blonde waited, the sword glinting in the sunlight.  All of this... this was familiar to him.

"Alright!" Gaddes said, psyching himself up. The others gathered on the sides, waiting in great anticipation, already taking bets, whispering to each other, "Boss is blind now . . . he's gonna fight anyway . . . holy Jechia, blind? . . . yeah, think he'll win? . . . Are you nuts? He could beat us with his eyes closed before . . ."

          Allen's second in command made a show of scratching his head bashfully, unsheathing the sword and dramatically tossing it aside.

"You ready, boss?" He grinned.

"When am I not?"  Allen grinned right back, completely still for a moment before he crouched down and lurched forward suddenly, bringing the rapier blade up.  An easy attack to parry, of course, but he was doing what he'd trained himself to do, get a feel for the land and the way his opponent worked.  Of course, he knew Gaddes well enough to gauge it, but the land around him had changed slightly, especially now that he couldn't see it.  

          Unlike when he'd trained with Gaddes back at the manor, the movements were as they had been before the blindness... smooth, graceful and easy.  It was like nothing was different, despite the dramatic change in style.  More foot work, more quick light strikes.

Gaddes blocked again, moving back and pivoting around Allen, "Yikes." he muttered, moving again to parry yet another blow. He kept having to take steps backward, as the clashing against his sword were not the prolonged sliding and parry, but quick blocks and hits - making the blades continuously sing in a timpani of steel.

          The sounds of the metal staccato made Celena's heart race, and she watching with growing excitement as her brother gauged Gaddes' attacks, parrying them as if he could see them before they happened. He'd gained a new level of hearing since his affliction, she noted. More than once, she was tempted to grab a sword from a soldier's belt next to her and rush into the fray. 

           Gaddes stopped their swordplay for a moment, to gain breath. His chest was heaving, and he was not easily winded by such activities as simple sparring. "You crazy son of a bitch," he muttered between breaths, "I think you - might be better at this than you were before. . . sacred serpents!" 

Allen hopped back a few steps and grinned a bit.  "Riden, you sure now?"  The blonde laughed a bit. "Every day, Gaddes, every day.  Elden and I recently started up aiding one another--you should see it... ah, what a pair we make.  He my eyes and I his sword."  Allen shook his head, still grinning.  "It might be because you're not used to fighting me like this.  My style changed, as I'm sure you noticed.  I would have been better off changing to this style in the first place, eh?"

          Gaddes let out a huff of laughter, straightening and stretching, readying himself for another bout with the sword, "Elden, you say? The poor bloke who lost his arm?"

Allen nodded a bit.  "He's been brought back as well, and just as honored and accepted as I."  Allen smirked, readying himself the sword tip once more directed to the ground, the long coat of his uniform swaying softly as he stilled.  "We've pledged to give aid to one another when we so need it."

"You should call on it now, Allen!" quipped Celena playfully, surprising his sword with a swift and harmless hit with her own. The men around them laughed at how silly she looked - wearing a light riding dress and carrying a sword. 

Gaddes grinned and moved behind Allen. Celena stood in front of him, almost posing with a hand arrogantly on her hip and her sword tip down to the ground, head held high like her brother's.       

Allen grinned and hopped out of the middle of them.  Those times Celena had trained with Elden and he came back.  "Gloves, yes?"  Never without gloves, never to spoil her soft hands.  

"Mmm, maybe," she mused, bringing her sword up in a quick motion.

          Allen shifted, batting her blade away with his own.  "Oh, come now, don't spoil your hands."  Allen grinned a little, crouching down slightly, listening.

"You're such a fop." she accused, while at the same time, Gaddes took steps toward them and lifted his blade.

Allen grinned, pushing himself forward and grabbing her about the waist, careful to pull his attack enough to not slam his shoulder into her, his arms around her breaking what might have been a hard fall, sliding across the ground a few inches before he hopped to his feet, kicking her sword out of her reach.

          "Oof!" She said from the ground, "That wasn't very nice." But Gaddes did not stop his attack, and quickly moved forward with his blade held up.

Allen skittered out of her reach, just in case, hopping lightly over her, righting the blade in his hand to a better hold with a quick flick of his wrist.  He smacked Gaddes' blade aside and brought his around at a sharp diagonal strike from the right, never minding the dust from his early gymnastics that coated his uniform.  That could be taken care of later.

The quickness of Allen's movement's surprised even Gaddes, for the soldier was used to watching a man's gaze. Allen had no gaze, and thus when his face did not turn toward his attack and still batted his blade away, it came as somewhat of a shock - especially when almost in a blur, Allen poised his blade just at Gaddes' neck, the tip just barely grazing the skin.

          The soldier dropped his blade, grinning nervously. "You win, boss."

Allen inclined his head slightly, the sword sliding carefully into its sheath at his side.  "I certainly hope that was enough of an assurance for all of you, eh?  I'm back.  So you know what that means.  Get working!"  The blonde grinned a little, waving a gloved hand at them, then proceeding to begin brushing the dust from his uniform.

          "Hi, back. I'm front." said Celena sardonically from the ground, bringing her knees close to her chest and letting her skirts untangled themselves. "What? Are you just going to leave me here on the ground, you roguish bastard?"

Allen laughed, turning towards her voice and offering a hand.  "Why, I thought you'd gotten yourself up by now.  I mean, you _were_ part of the fight and all."  

"I won't even begin to explain it to you." She took his hand and he lifted her quickly to her feet, almost making her hop up. "You'll need some sort of stick to walk outside. You know you can't keep from using it all the time. We'd have to peel you from the walls you bump into."

"I'll be fine, especially around here.  Likely, it'll be built up the same way it was before, so I'll know the layout.  I spent much of my life here...this is where I feel at home."

"Fine, but out of the walls, take heed. I do _not_ want you getting lost or hurt. You might be good with a sword, but accidents - obviously - still happen." she gripped his arm warningly, as if she were afraid to let him loose on his own.

Allen smiled, patting her hand softly.  "Don't worry so much, I'll be fine.  After all, you, Gaddes and the others are here, as well."

Gently, she placed his hand to her upper arm and began to lead them inside the fort. "Will we have rooms here?" she asked.

"Of course.  We will live here."  Allen nodded slightly.  "They probably have the barracks already set up, considering they've been here awhile and they'd need some place to sleep."

          "We'll have separate rooms, no doubt. Otherwise, I suppose it would look odd to them." she said bashfully, leading them up the steps to a part of the fort that was already finished and smelled of recently dried plaster and laid mortar.

"It would be best, yes... though close to one another."  He walked quietly alongside of her, long hair swaying softly at his back.  It felt good to be back out here, after so long of being away.

Celena laughed, still leading them down unfamiliar halls. "I don't know where we're going."

"Mm, I haven't been paying much attention.  However... there should be a bit of a hallway to the left a little farther on.  Barracks are there."

"Well, then, you lead." she said delightedly, removing his hand from her arm and stepping back.

Allen glanced sightlessly over at her.  "Neh, you always have to do this, don't you?"  The blonde shook his head slightly, stepping to the left side and walking trailing his fingers against the left wall, one hand outstretched slightly before him so he wouldn't run into a wall at the end of the hallway.

Celena, though odd as it might sound, was always fascinated when she watched him navigate on his own. Always with a grin on her face so wide, it sometimes seemed as roguish as her brother's. In a way, it was like she was teasing him . . . and just as he would make fun of her height as a child, well, why couldn't she have her pokes too?

          "How else could I blackmail you later? Maybe one day I won't tell you about a puddle you might be ready to fall right into, sopping wet, only to have to deal with explanations . . . " she chuckled viciously.

"Oh, and you'd do it, too, wouldn't you?"  Allen grinned a little, sliding his hand carefully around the corner, light brushes of his fingertips against the wood of the building.  "Down this hallway, if I recall correctly..."

Celena followed him obediently, of course, having no choice. She really had no idea in what part of this fort they were now - and it seemed amazing to her that he would remember it's layout from so long ago, even before he had been able to see it again. 

          "Steps, Allen." she would warn, and hated doing it. It was the one thing he had trouble with, and he was so stubborn that he refused to use any kind of aid. One of these days, he would trip horribly and break his leg, she feared.

Allen nodded slightly, making his way carefully up the steps, tapping one foot carefully against the back of the step to gauge its distance.  It was a good thing he'd gotten so used to walking up them, considering how many the fort and his own home had. 

"Stop worrying so much," he murmured softly, once hand still brushing softly against the wall.

"I'll stop worrying the day you don't risk breaking your neck," she returned lividly. Her footfalls were gentler than his own, softer upon the stone steps as he led her up the stairs and too the barracks wing.

"All of us risk doing such a thing, Celena.  I'll be fine, especially here.  Gaddes and the others are here."  Allen shrugged slightly, a faint smile on his lips.

          When he reached the doors, he murmured a count as he passed them, stopping at the fifth and tugging it open.

Celena looked inside passed her brother. "These must have been your quarters." she said, "It's almost as large as your bedchambers back home." She stepped into the empty room and looked around, noting that it had already been furnished with simple chest of drawers and a bed with a cotton filled mattress that was large enough for two people.

"It was."  Allen nodded slightly, leaning lightly against the doorframe.  "Though likely far less fancy then it had been.  I expect they didn't think me coming back."

          The blonde smiled a little.  Yes... everything felt familiar here...

"There's a spectacular amount of riches in here, Allen," she lied, grinning to herself. "The Asturian crest hangs on the wall, and there's even a porcelain water basin on this Maplewood chest of drawers. And a marvelous bed."

"Why do I have the inclination not to believe you?"  Allen grinned right back, nudging her slightly.  "You never could lie very well."  Though he expected there were some niceties there that weren't in the other rooms.  This one was larger, after all.

"Alright, I've been found - there's a spectacularly plain bed and armoire. The rest just fills with echoes. I'm sure you could tell." she seethed playfully, taking his arm and turning him around. "And my room? You must assign me a room, captain."

"Well... if I recall, then the room to my right should be free."  He took a step back and turned, guiding her towards it and pushing open the door.  He relented a bit ago that if she was to do anything of work around here... likely, she's had to set aside her skirts.  A pity.  While he couldn't see her, he knew she looked wonderful anyhow.

Celena let out a short 'huh' . . . "It's wonderfully plain." she laughed.


	8. Close

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Close**

They were finally able to get situated in the Fort, Celena needing to take her own time memorizing the many wings and tiers and balconies of it. Allen had his own balcony attached to his room, and while Celena was jealous, she secretly thought that it would not really be his room alone. It seemed that the progress on rebuilding Fort Castelo had already been nearly completion.

          Weapons were restocked, the wall was put up along the parameter's - or so Gaddes reported - and all that was left was a little roofing and some indoor remodeling. Gaddes had warned Allen that there were some places that had stairs now where there didn't used to be. Just a few things here and there that might be different, and he had to hastily assure that he wasn't tricking his friend just to have a bit of fun.

          As the indoors were finally being done, things began to run like normal, and soldiers would be in the courtyard, going through exercises, or patrolling - others, during off-duty hours, would be in rooms, cleaning the dust from the floors used for storage or barracks. Celena wasn't available, as she was desperately trying to find her way through the labyrinth of the fort walls. Gaddes had to excuse himself from Allen early that day to go through field exercises, which left Allen to his own devices.

Allen took his time following the halls and such, though even still, after being gone so long, some of the layout was fuzzy.  But he'd force himself to deal with that, to fix it.  He'd been doing it a lot, really, navigating the halls to get himself to get a feel for it all over again.  Always, the sword at his side, though for now the uniform was set aside for a lighter, far less regal looking attire.  He looked fittingly... swashbuckling, with his knee-high boots, leather pants tucked neatly into them, loose white shirt held by a greenish sash.

          No, admittedly, he did not choose his own clothes.  He knew he'd end up mismatching or some such thing.

          The blonde was quiet as he walked, besides the soft thunk of his boots on the wooden flooring.  This was his home.  This was what he knew.

His footfall alerted two guards who had been cleaning up dust, plaster, and other debris from the floors of some rooms that were parallel. One soldier peeked out quietly and saw Allen coming, in a pace that was casual and not painstakingly slow for a blind man. He grinned wickedly and silently signaled to his grumpy comrade across the hall. They both were stuck with cleaning duty and neither were too fond of the idea.

          The first soldier, who had been holding a broom, stretched it out across the hall where his other malicious friend took the end of it. There they held the sturdy rod of the broom just at Allen's ankle level, trying very hard to conceal smirks.

Of course, before his blindness, he had been able to pick out such things.  However, now...

          His senses alerted him to the broom's presence far too late, and their young commander started, toppling over rather ungracefully.  He hissed softly, but hardly had any time to recover before his weight promptly slid him off the top step and down the staircase.  It was all too quick for him to be able to do anything about it, though he did react enough to duck his head to keep from cracking his skull against the stairs.  Or the wall.  

          One narrow shoulder glanced off the wall, nudging him down the rest of the stairs, and he lay still for a few moments.  Surprise flickered through him, as well as flashes of pain.  He'd be bruised, at least.  Thankfully, nothing rather severe had occurred.  He calmed his racing heart, groaning softly as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, leaning the far less bruised shoulder against the wall.

Well, at least he hadn't broken his leg... or neck.

The soldiers immediately knew it would look bad if their commander found that they were there and had done nothing to check on his well being after falling so hard. So, one of them quickly rushed down a few steps, all the way exclaiming in surprise, "Sir Allen! By Jechia, are you alright?"

Allen winced a bit, slowly tugging himself to his feet.  He hadn't expected to come out of it that unscathed, but luck seemed to be with him in some odd manner.  The blonde pressed gloved fingers experimentally into the shoulder he'd banged into the wall, shaking his head.  "I'm alright, just... don't worry about it."  Allen shook his head slightly.

           Celena's fears had been shoved right in his face... of course, he'd keep it quiet if he could.  Pride and all of that, as well as wanting to keep her from worrying so much.

"Oh, but sir," said the other in alarm, "Let one of us take you to the healer, at least. You might have hurt something far worse than your pride."

          Oh, how his companion tried so very hard to keep from sniggering at the jest. How utterly ridiculous, not to mention insulting, that this blind whelp is to be their commander when he is younger than most of the soldiers there.

"It's fine," Allen murmured, shaking his head slightly.  It was true, he might have injured himself worse than a bit of bruising.  His shoulder just didn't feel right.  "I'll be fine.  Just a little shaken, is all."  Shaken indeed.  That had been the worst fall yet since his blindness.

          While Allen had no disillusions that everyone there loved having him around... he didn't even begin to think that the soldiers themselves would do such a thing.  

"Please, commander, I insist." said the first, and he took Allen's arm in his hand, his companion following from behind as he began to lead the Caeli Knight downstairs.

          Allen sighed softly.  He'd be better off right now with someone leading him, of course.  Finally, he silently relented.  It would be for the best, after all.  He'd have less of a chance of tripping... and, after all, the healer could tell him just what was wrong with his shoulder.

          Allen stepped carefully, used to being led.  And these were his soldiers, after all... he would trust them.  How could he not?

These soldier were voices without names to their commander, and thankfully so for what better way than to torment the presumptuous little prick - blind _and_ far too trusting. It was all too easy for the soldier and his friend to lead the poor Knight down halls, their steps swift as if the man's injury was truly in dire need of being inspected.

          The second soldier opened a door finally, at the end of a stone hallway, "Just in here, sir." and they led Allen insider. "The healer will be with you shortly." he said, taking the key out from the door as he spoke, closing the door with a soft click. The men didn't dare break out in their laughter until they were far enough away from the locked door to the storage room.

Allen tensed just inside the room.  This didn't smell like an apothecary.  The blonde felt a frown tug on his lips... he'd been made a fool of.  He kicked the door sharply, narrowing blind eyes, frustrated.  _He'd been made a fool of_.  "Of course he insisted... hell."  In vain hopes, the blonde tried the door to find it locked, bowing his head against it.  His shoulder throbbed... he likely did need to get it checked.  But he couldn't.  Not in there.  

          Again the blonde kicked the door.  It wouldn't budge.  Great, just great... now he couldn't even trust his own soldiers, could he?  

It was hours later that Gaddes came down that hall after field exercises. He whistled a merry tune, all in high spirits about his commander and friend coming back to their fort. How happy he was for his friend, the knight - how happy that he'd brought his pretty sister to gaze upon from across the common room in the evenings. But he would never admit as such, no.

           No, he was also content for Allen, in that he found renewed pride now that he not only gained back his title, his position, but also his post and his men, his crew, and role as captain of the ship Crusade. Gaddes could have skipped for joy.

Allen had already shed his quiet tears of frustration and bitterness at being so stupid.  Frustrated, his shoulder throbbing, several choice points on his body aching from bruising, he was a mess.  He'd given up calling out awhile back.  No one was there during the day.  The blonde was silent, tucked up against the wall, frowning when he heard the whistling.

          He knew that step, that song.  Gaddes.  In a flourish that made him dizzy, Allen stood and sidled up to the door, bracing a hand against the wall until the dizziness passed, then promptly kicked the door.  

"Gaddes?"

          This was going to be embarrassing as hell... but at least it was Gaddes.

Gaddes stopped at the noise of someone kicking the door from inside one of the many storage rooms. His whistle hung in the air before making the very stones around him silent, save for more kicking on the door at the end of the hall. He'd been making his way toward the stairs, being below ground on this level of the fort.

          When he heard his name, he recognized the voice of his young noble friend, and quickly ran to the door, testing the handle. 

"Boss?" he said from the other side, "Is that you?"

Allen sighed softly, relieved.  It was Gaddes.  "Er..... yeah."  embarrassing wouldn't describe it.  Of course, Allen was agitated and a bit angry at himself, as well as those two soldiers.  Hell if he knew who they were, though.  "I'll explain later."

          Later... meaning when he got out.  Allen gently massaged his shoulder, frowning a little.  The other bruises and such had stopped aching so much.  But ugh... his shoulder still throbbed.

Gaddes tried the handle again, more viciously this time, to no avail. Locked in, was he? Oh, he would want a very good explanation from whomever did this to him. "I need to kick the door in. Stand back."

Allen slid back from the door with a soft sigh, back against the wall.  "Alright, go ahead."  

Bracing himself on the archway of the doorframe, Gaddes heaved back his leg and gave the door a mighty kick. It nearly splintered at his force, knocking out one of the hinges from the newly mortared stone. "Boss! Are you alright?" he asked, immediately seeking out his blonde commander.

"Too bad about that door," murmured Allen, shaking his head slightly.  Carefully, he slid outside the storage room and sighed.  Bitterly.  "Me and my naiveté..."

          "Lead me to the apothecary, would you?  I'll tell you on the way."  Gaddes he could trust to lead him the right way.  Hell, the members of the Crusade, he could trust.  "I notice we've gotten new faces around here."  Bitter.  He'd let himself be led into a trap.  What a fool.  

"To be honest, I rather ungracefully made my way down a flight of stairs.  I might've dislocated my shoulder, but besides that there's nothing too bad."  He'd had worse.  But oh, the shame... but after mulling over it for awhile, he'd decided that it really wasn't his doing.  He was convinced it had been them.  "And they insisted on taking me to the apothecary.  Which, I might add, I figured might be a good idea.  And, of course... I'm sure you can figure out what happened."  

          He'd finished it lamely, he knew... but oh, the shame.  And he had no idea who it was that had done it to him.  He had no way of telling.  Their voices weren't very distinct at all.

Gaddes, in fact, didn't lead Allen to the apothecary. Instead, he made a slow pace upstairs, towards his commander's room - a room he knew well enough himself, having slept there on occasion before the Fort was destroyed. He was silent all along their trip, before opening the door to Allen's own room and leading him inside.

          "We're here." he said quietly. "You should sit down."

Allen turned his head slightly towards the other with a sigh.  Not the apothecary's... but not a storage room, either.  The blonde slid inside, feeling along the wall to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it.  he felt the part of the fool.  He'd been too trusting, but what could he do?  These were his soldiers, men he'd fight beside.  How should he have known he'd have to be suspicious of them?

"We don't have an apothecary yet. Healer's not due until next week." Gaddes explained quietly, watching his friend as he struggled to find his own bed. Not matter how happy he was for Allen, it still broke his heart to watch him. "And you look like you got the shit kicked out of you. Shoulder looks a little off. . . might need to pop it back in."

"Mm... I lost to the stairs, what can I say?  It was bound to happen eventually."  Though he'd expected himself to do it, not one of his soldiers.  Or two.  "Yeah... it's stiff and it hurts like hell... but at least my arm's not broken or anything.  It could have been worse."  

          Allen wasn't in high spirits.  He'd been shamed and injured all because of his blindness and his trust.  

Gaddes would probably never mention it out loud, but he could clearly see the clean streaks that made trails down Allen's smudged and dirty face. Quietly, he went over to the water basin and poured fresh water on a rag, rung it out and sat beside Allen. He scarcely brought his hand up behind Allen's head, to let him know to turn his face toward him - and gingerly cleaned his face and tear trails.

          "Like you said," began Gaddes softly, "At least you didn't break anything. Especially your neck."

"Mm... it definitely could have been worse."  Of course, it defiantly could have been better, as well.  He'd done his crying, wasn't yet done with his berating himself for his trust, but he would finish up soon enough.  "Just say nothing to Celena."  He didn't want her to know, to worry.  not that she wouldn't worry anyhow, but she would worry more if she knew.

          Allen always found comfort in Gaddes' presence and touch.  He was the one that brought Celena back, he was the one that was always there at his side when he could be.  Gaddes was there to trust and Allen did trust him.  He trusted the brunette with his secrets, his fears.  Everything.

"You know how she insists that you use a cane." said Gaddes, wiping away the last of the grime from his handsome fellow's features. "As much as I hate to admit it, she might have a point. These soldiers - who ever they are - would have less of an advantage over you. Allen," and now he spoke frankly, putting a hand on the man's face as if to force him to look at him. "You can't pretend to see and risk  your safety. There are some things Celena says that even _I_ agree with."

Allen sighed softly, knowing Gaddes and his sister were right.  Especially after this incident. During a fight, he could do without.  But here...

          He relented.  Finally.  "Very well," he murmured softly.  He'd been convinced.  The blonde didn't pull away from the other man's touch, as he might have awhile ago.  He didn't argue the point, make it know that he sure as hell could do this on his own, without the cane.  No.  Not this time.  He knew Gaddes was right in this.  It would be a show of weakness, but also... something past that.  It was a show of strength, that he could step past the pride that plagued him.

At that moment, Gaddes finally did pull away, touching the other man lightly on the head. "We need to put your shoulder back into place," he told him, standing.

Allen sighed, nodding.  One hand rested on the bed, fingers immersed in the bedsheets.  It wouldn't be fun, that much was for sure.  Granted, he hadn't ever dislocated anything, now that he thought of it.  But he was sure it would hurt.  And likely a lot.  "Don't mind me while you're doing it."  Allen didn't like pain very much, after all.

Gaddes sighed, "You might want to lay down - on your stomach."

The blonde nodded slightly.  Gaddes would know about this better than he would.  Carefully, the blonde did so, tugging his hair out of the way.  This wasn't going to be comfortable at all.

Carefully straddling at Allen's lower back, his two strong hands gripping the offending shoulder, he readied himself for the cry of pain his friend was about to let out. Hard and quick as possible, he pulled outward with his hands, and with his knee he pushed down roughly until he heard a nice audible "pop!".

Indeed, a cry of pain fell from his lips... as well as a list of obscenities rarely heard from him.  It hurt.  Like hell.  When it was done, he lay still, panting a little, his eyes closed, the faint stinging of tears of pain prickling in the corners of his eyes.  

          But it was done.

         Uncurling gloved fingers that had clenched in the sheets, the blonde shuddered slightly.  Could have been worse. 

Gaddes let him lay there for a few minutes, letting him catch his breath. He didn't like that his commander got hurt, that he was in pain, that he felt helpless. The soldiers that hurt his pride so – how they would pay if Gaddes ever found out who they were. And he will, by Jechia. Ever so gently, he rubbed Allen's back, moving his hand over the silk of his shirt and stroking the golden tendrils.

"You'll be okay, now, boss." Said Gaddes reassuringly, "You can take care of yourself. You're strong and you don't need me to tell you twice. Even before what happened, you could have kicked all of our asses with your eyes closed."

Allen sighed softly, closing his eyes needlessly, resting his forehead against the mattress.  Gaddes comfortingly rubbing his back was... comfortable. And relaxing.  Reassuring.  Eventually, the identities would come out.  And when they did...

          Likely Allen knew he wouldn't be the first one to do something about them.

          But the difference between now and then was that Allen would not have been tricked so then.

While it was so quiet in the room for but a few moments, Gaddes there with Allen lying on the bed, it was horrendously interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps, someone really running down the hallway just outside of the door. Allen's door flew up hard, swinging and hitting the wall. It was Celena, her breathing labored and her voice frantic. 

          "What's happened?  I heard a scream. Allen, what happened?" And she rushed to his side, touching his head and fussing over him like an over-bearing aunt.

Allen started, lifting his head and turning it towards her fretting.  He paused, forcing his racing heart to calm.  Hell.  "I'm fine, I'm fine... Gaddes and I were sparring and I was being a showy idiot."  

Believable enough, of course.  "He didn't believe me so much that the time I fought him before wasn't a fluke."  Allen shook his head a little.  He didn't want to lie to her... but he wouldn't tell her the truth.  This was between the soldiers there and himself.  And if she knew, she'd shuffle him right off the fort or refuse to leave his side for a single second or some such rather ungraceful thing.

          And Allen wouldn't leave the fort, not until all this was taken care of.

"Gaddes, you insensitive knuckle head!" she said to the second in command, and Gaddes let her smack him hard in his chest as a rebuke. Apparently she'd already picked up some speech patterned from the soldiers. Gaddes couldn't help but wonder which one uses 'knucklehead'. 

          "Hey, I'm sorry," said Gaddes, holding up his hands in defeat, "I just needed to be proven twice. Guess he lost the second time, and none too gracefully, isn't that right, boss?" Celena growled.

Allen couldn't help but smile.  He'd apologize to Gaddes about that later.  The blonde groaned a little, sighing.  "Utterly.  It was a mess.  I can usually easily pull of stunts like that, but it was idiotic.  Anyway, it's not really that big of a deal, it was more my own fault than his, anyway.  And I wasn't arguing with a bit more sparring."  

Taking a moment to let the words settle, Gaddes watched Celena as she continued to look over Allen's bruised body, wincing when she gasped at the horrible black and blue of his shoulder. She practically tore the shirt from its laces so that she could pull it down and dote over his some more.

          "By the gods, these bruises are horrible. Gaddes!" she turned on him with livid eyes, but once again, Gaddes held up hands in defeat, standing and taking steps backward toward the door.

          "I think I'll just leave you two alone. I'll get berated later by your sister anyway. Take it easy for a while, alright?" And he quickly left the room, closing the door securely behind him. Celena turned to Allen.

          "How could you be so careless?" She started angrily.

"Celena, you needn't worry so much.  It was nothing serious.  I had worse than this when I first began sword fighting.  They are bruises, that is all.  And my shoulder," Allen shrugged with the uninjured shoulder, offering a slight smirk.  "it will heal."

          Boys will be boys.  Allen would get injured and spring right back.  And hell if he'd let those two soldiers defeat him like that.  He'd lost pride over them once.  

          "Careful with the clothes, would you?" he murmured softly, arching a brow.  "I'll be fine, I assure you.  Gaddes and I both have sustained worse from our spars."

With Gaddes gone, and her brother's reassurances, she softened her expression and slowly bent to kiss him like a wife and not a sister. "I understand," she said into his ear, her breath dancing over the sensitive skin of his lobe, "I just - I think I love you too much, sometimes."

"It's alright, Celena," he sighed softly, slipping his arms about her in a hug.  "I'll be fine.  No matter what it is that happens, I'll be fine eventually, one way or another."

They stayed there together for a while, Celena nearly falling asleep in his embrace as he rested. The room was quite barren, and large - it made her feel strange, to be in such emptiness and briefly wondered what it must be like to be in complete emptiness *and* darkness. She couldn't even begin to fathom how lonely it must be for her brother sometimes.

          It was a short nap for her there, before she wanted to get up and stretch her legs some more. Before leaving the room, she said over to Allen from the door. "I know you won't use it, but your cane continues to gather cobwebs next to the door. Sometimes I don't even know why I tell you." she shook her head, suppressing a grin.

Only that, finally, he did intend on using it.  Gaddes and she were both correct and he'd show the strength to push past his pride and use it.  Allen shook his head slightly.  "You needn't worry about it."

"I know," she replied, "Are you up to coming to dinner or should I have someone bring it to you tonight?"

"I will go.  What would keep me from doing so?  A little bit of bruising like this is no reason."  And he wanted to keep his injury centralized... known between just a few.  If he didn't show up, then the others might wonder why.  Best to keep up appearances, then.

"Alright. It's getting dark, so I imagine everyone's starting to gather in the common room for dinner. I'll see you there soon." With that, she left him quietly to his peace. 

          She even bothered changing for dinner, though she wore a dress for the afternoon, she chose to wear something much more comfortable. She nearly mimicked her brother in casual attire, having snitched a pair of pants from his chest of drawers and a loose shirt over her corset - how she hated breasts sometimes. The sash wound around her waist twice and even then had to be tied tightly to keep the pants from falling.

          In the common room, she waited at the *only* table there . . . All the soldiers sat on the floor, sitting on hay bales or leaning against each other in circles as they ate and conversed loudly. She ignored their catcalls and laughs when she had entered. The table she sat at was barren, but there were place settings and even a crude vase with a couple of daisies stuck into it. They still treat Allen like the fop that he is, apparently. She found herself watching the door expectantly, her fingers interlaced in front of her. 

           She insisted that they not serve her until her brother came, so she waited.

Allen entered as regal and prideful as ever.  Nothing, really, seemed changed, the thunk of boot heels quiet.  He seemed no less a man then he had before, seemingly unchanged by the day's earlier events.  Those were pushed aside.  He had a part to play, after all, he couldn't disappoint.  He'd righted the clothes he'd worn, the ones so quickly tugged out of place in his sister's frantic exploration.

          The only difference was the cane in hand.  He grasped it lightly, his fingers curling softly about the top of it.  A way to get past his shame in using it... the way he held it mimicked the way he grasped his rapier, a loose, comfortable grip.  

He knew his way around the dining hall easily, sliding onto the bench quietly when he'd reached it.  

Oh, how her heart sank. No one spoke when Allen entered, many soldiers hushing others who had been in conversation. Even after they'd quieted, she could hear whispers - knowing they were not about the same crass articulations from before as their eyes were fixed on her brother and the cane he held in his hand.

          The silence was dreadfully uncomfortable, and it made Celena's back chill and her muscles tense with rising fury. Had they truly never seen a blind man, before? No - they had never seen her brother like that before. She wanted to yell at them to stop staring and get back to eating their disgusting gruel.

          She swallowed, "Allen," and her voice was very quiet so that really only he could hear her, "What made you change your mind?"

Allen felt a pang of pain at their whispers, their... what was it, shock?  He could feel their eyes upon him, but he didn't change his demeanor.  He wasn't sure if he could take much of it, of their shock, their staring.  These were men he'd fought and trained beside, men he'd led through one of the most trying parts of his and their lives.  Couldn't he have their respect, even though he'd changed?

           The blonde pushed that aside for now, shaking his head slightly to Celena.  "What's wrong with all of you?  Eat your slop!"  His normal tone, not a quiver in his voice.  But their sudden silence was grating.

          "It doesn't matter," he murmured to her, shaking his head slightly.

Slowly, the murmuring of the soldiers broke into the conversation they'd been having before, turning back to their friends and trying to lighten the mood. The crew of the Crusade were all there, sitting on hay bales nearest to Allen's table. Kio brought out the cuisine that they would be eating on a platter. It was a roast pig, a small one - but even the crudeness of its shriveled up skin did not deter Celena's mouth from watering.

          Using her own place settings, she carved large chunks from the baked carcass and served both she and her brother. Of course, when she was done, she always had to give him the same routine. "Potatoes at 11 o'clock. Delicious pork at 5, some sweet corn cake at 2, and a biscuit at 8."

          "But it's 7:30 at night, little lady," said Kio with the most innocently bewildered look on his face.

Allen ate quietly, though careful not to let his dread show through.  What if he lost more respect from them?  What would he do, then?

          To her comment, Allen laughed.  He set aside the utensils, unable to hold back the snickers that slipped forth.  Oh, she was a darling woman, wasn't she?  And so demanding, of course.  But then again, she was his sister.  She'd get every right.

"Kio, shove off, will you?" said Gaddes from his seat on the hay, and grumpily Kio complied, taking his own plate of stew and bread and eating with a vengeance. 

          "What's so funny?" Celena had to ask her brother.

"Nothing, nothing at all, dear Celena."  Allen stifled his laughter, a little bit of a grin on his lips as he finished up the food given.  "You're such a treasure, you know that?"  Perfect.

Celena smiled and finished her meal as well. But the soldiers around them had finished before the noble siblings, and were already relaxing and talking among themselves. Kio, like a good waiter - and hating Gaddes for assigning him to be as such for the night - took away the empty plates. Celena poured both of them some _vino_, settling herself in her chair.

          "Hey, boss," Riden again with his insatiable curiosity, "What's gonna happen with Scherezade now that you can't see?" Nearly the entire crew around them groaned. Riden was well known for lack of tact.

Allen glanced over at him sightlessly, arching a brow.  "She'll stay safely away.  It's obvious I won't be able to pilot her.  Or I might be able to pilot her eventually.  Though it'll be awhile before I can."  

          At least things were slowly sliding back to normal from the tenseness earlier.  

"Boss," said Pyle, a large barrel-chested half-mole man who sat with Riden, "Are we still gonna use the Crusade? You still gonna be captain?"

"What are you, an idiot?"  Allen grinned roguishly, tipping his head to the side a little.  "Of course!"

          Celena giggled.

           "What about the little lady?" asked Katz, "What's she here for?"

           "I'm his sister, moron." she said scathingly. But again, there was silence - not in the entire room this time, thank goodness. No luckily it was just with the crew of the Crusade, those precious few who were deemed worthy of trust with Allen. She suddenly got nervous with the way they stared at her, barely finding her voice to ask, "What?"

           "You mean, aren't you Dilandau?" asked Katz. Celena shrank.

Allen tensed, the fork slipping from his fingers.  Oh God.

           "_No_... she is _not_," he hissed.  "She is _not_ Dilandau."  He almost shook.  The shock at her changing so horridly sudden right before him, watching as she was taken away again, defending her from Van's assault...

"A-Allen," Celena started nervously, seeing her brother seething with anger. The soldiers around them visibly leaned back, as if to give way to the overwhelming sense of rage emanating from Allen.

          "S-Sorry, Boss," stuttered Katz quietly, suddenly feeling much too nervous for his own safety.

Allen clenched his jaw in a manner of forcing himself to calm down.  They didn't know, they didn't understand, he couldn't expect them to.  "Just... forget it, it's alright," he murmured, sighing softly.  He pushed the anger away, quite possibly to be dealt with later.  Now wouldn't be the time.

"So, I heard you got a few bruises today..." said Kio, trying to sound light hearted, despite the brief stint they almost got themselves into. "Heard that Gaddes beat the boss this afternoon."

          Gaddes scratched his head bashfully, "Yeah, it's like I said, probably a fluke. But one of those few times I'll be able to flaunt that I beat the boss. Right, boss?"

"Straight out, Gaddes.  We'll have to have a rematch."  Allen grinned challengingly.  The anger seeped out of him quickly, fading, lightly shoved aside like he had a tendency to do.  Well, now that they had that about Celena all straightened out, it was time to move onto other things.

"Allen," Celena began, "I was wondering. Since I can only do so much work around here - do you suppose I could start learning how to use Scherezade?"

           Again, the men stopped and stared at her, startled. Gaddes took the opportunity to quickly break their sudden silence. "You know, boss, she's not bad with a sword. It might not be a bad idea."

"...Celena, you are a lady, above anything else.  I won't have you spoil your hands with such work."  That... and he didn't want her back in danger the way she had been before.  If there was a fight, he didn't want her in the middle of it.  Allen shook his head slightly.  

          And even then... it was odd, to think of someone else manning the unit.

"Oh, please?" she begged, having always been interested in their family guymelef and always hating how her brother refused her such a pleasure, "Why must you always obsess yourself with protecting me?"

"Because you are a lady and above that, my sister, that's why.  I won't have a lady being in such danger when it is unnecessary."  Allen calmly shook his head slightly, a faint frown on his lips.

Celena leaned on the table and said in a petulant mutter, "I don't want to be a lady. I want to be a knight."

           Again, the soldiers laughed at her wounded pride and childish behavior. "She already looks like a boy." said Oruto darkly, who's throwing knives seemed to have an accuracy beyond that of a normal man. "Her hair's short and she's in your clothes, boss."

"You _are_ still a lady, Celena."  Allen rested his hands lightly on the table, sighing softly.  "And even if she does dress like one, she isn't a boy.  She is my sister and I won't have her nancing about like the rest of you."

          Allen turned his tone more towards her, sighing a bit.  "Celena, I just recently got you back, would you have me shove you out there into the middle of a battle?  Would you have me risk losing you all over again?  I won't.  I won't take that risk."

"No," Celena sighed, resigning. She pushed away from the table and bowed to the soldiers - who laughed some more. She desperately tried to quell her anger. "I'm feeling fatigued, so I think I'll go to my chambers and retire. Goodnight." and she left them laughing at her from behind.

          "You're little sister might be trouble," spoke Oruto again, chuckling.

           "Yeah, she really wants to be a knight like you, boss." said Riden. It took Gaddes to stand up and glare at them.

          "Cut it out, you idiots." he said simply.

"Even if she wants it, I won't support it.  I won't have her face what I do."  Allen turned his head towards them and flashed a grin.  "And anyway, I wouldn't want to turn her loose with louses like you!"

"Aw, boss, that's not very nice." said Pyle, who easily gets discouraged by his commander's insults. Of course, every time he looked so wounded, his shipmates would simply pat him on the back and laugh some more.

          But above the din of their laughter, a man that was not a part of the crew of the airship spoke, "Heard you took a nasty tumble today!" of which made the camaraderie between the shipmates to die down and turn slowly to see who the speaker was.

Allen paused, arching a brow slightly.  He listened closely to the voice, trying to recognize it.  If only he could see... if he could see, it never would have happened.  "You there... your name, soldier?  I don't believe you were stationed here before."

"M-Me sir?" said the soldier, standing up quickly and saluting him with respect, "No, sir, I wasn't. But there are a lot of us that weren't here before the Fort's destruction during the war. Kalban is my name, sir. New recruit."

"Mm, good to know.  I expect Gaddes has made sure to fill all of you in with the way things work around here."  The salutes he knew were worthless... he couldn't see them anyhow.  But there was still that respect to be given.  He was still their commander.

           Allen was frustrated.  The voice wasn't one of the ones from earlier, was it?  But... he'd find them soon enough.  He'd have to.

And at that moment, Gaddes took the time to touch Allen's shoulder and bend down to Allen's ear, "Kal is a new guy but he's not bad eggs around here. The guys and I get along with him well enough."

Allen nodded slightly to Gaddes' words.  He trusted their judge of character well enough.  Allen leaned back slightly to speak quietly with Gaddes, his voice soft.  "Make sure you and the guys keep an eye out for anyone who might be into causing a bit of trouble.  The sooner we narrow it down, the better."

"Right." he said quietly, knowing that a simple nod would go unheeded. Most of the men who had already finished their meals were filing out of the common room, only a few staying behind to enjoy the fire that crackled in the hearth at the center. It was then that some of the crew stood up as well, mumbling a couple 'Night, boss's to Allen as they passed him.

           Gaddes stayed, of course, being ever loyal. Pyle took up a hay stack near the warmth of the hearth and settled down for a nap. Gaddes was thankful that none of them questioned Kalban's statement, wondering if they too, were as determined to keep Allen's pride intact. "Guess you don't need help back to your room, right?"

"No... I think I'll be fine."  Allen stood, nodding slightly to Gaddes.  "It'll take some getting used to, using this," he motioned with the cane, sighing a little, "but you and Celena are both right that it's for my benefit if I use it."  Allen smiled slightly.  "Thanks for earlier, by the way, though I know it doesn't need to be said."  Allen knew Gaddes was aware of how thankful he was for the brunette's presence.  It was he that had warmed Allen up to the role he'd set himself in, helped him settle into the place of their commander.  He'd been loyally there at his side and continued to be so, even through all his troubles.

           Allen clasped Gaddes' arm tightly with a gloved hand, nodding slightly to him.

"I could kiss you," grinned Gaddes, "If I drunk enough not to know better."

Allen laughed a little, shaking his head slightly.  Not like they hadn't shared breaths before, but that... seemed so far away.  "You know you'd like it too much."  Allen grinned teasingly, always at ease with his friend.

"Then I better go before I get tempted!" Gaddes chuckled, clasping his friend one last time on his shoulder before taking his leave to his modest quarters - second in command, he got his own room.

Allen sighed a little, turning and starting to walk back towards his own room a few minutes after the brunette left.  He knew Gaddes would do him well... they'd find out whoever had shamed him.

"Hey there, commander." said a passing soldier.

Allen turned his head slightly towards him, giving him a nod.  "Evening."

Another stepped behind him, "We were wondering . . ."

Allen's senses were set on alert and he tensed a little.  "...wondering?"

          "Well," said the soldier behind him, taking hold of Allen's shoulder, "You're sister - she is your sister, isn't she?"

The blonde, narrowed his eyes slightly.  "She is..."

The soldier beside Allen leaned in close, with a grin on his face as he spoke, "She's really pretty."

"...So she is..."  Allen leaned away a little, a slight frown tugging on his lips.  This... wasn't going to be good.

But a blush entered the men's cheeks, and they quickly stepped away to salute him. "Our apologies, sir. But - we were wondering . . . could one of us call on her in the future?"

"That's her decision, not my own," he murmured slightly, shaking his head.  He had a feeling he knew what her answer would be, but he'd leave it up to her.  If she chose them... then he'd get involved.

"Alright!" exclaimed one happily, while the other only slumped in dismay.

          "Better than nothing." he sighed.

"I cannot make those kinds of decisions for her."  Allen shrugged slightly, but offered a little smile.  

"All I can say is good luck."  Allen grinned a little bit, then started off again.  "Make sure to get some rest for tomorrow."

"What's going on tomorrow, commander?" asked the dismayed one to Allen's retreating form.

"The usual.  We don't want you guys all tuckered out during exercises, eh?"

The men could only mutter curses under their breath, looking at each other before dejectedly walking back to their barracks. 

Allen moved quietly down the hall, a faint smile on his lips.  She certainly was pretty.

          But he was disturbed by how quickly he'd freaked out when they drew near.  The blonde shook his head a little, heading up towards his room.

"Allen," Celena whispered to him from her door as she saw her brother pass her room, "Allen, can I sleep with you tonight?"

Allen blinked turning his head towards her.  "Ah... if you wish it, then I suppose I have no quarrel with it, Celena."

Her night gown flowing around her as she moved to close her own bedroom door and practically danced into Allen's room, hopping gleefully onto the bed and snuggling under the covers. "I wanted to cuddle," she explained, burying her head in a pillow.

          Allen walked into the room, shutting the door quietly and getting dressed for bed.  The cane he almost bitterly set aside, then slipped under the covers carefully, hair splaying out against the pillows softly.

Celena found that she could not help let her hands wander, very slowly at first, across the bed in the dark. She hesitated when she felt Allen's warmth beneath her fingertips, but soon place her hand fully on his bare chest. Her eyes were wide in the moonlight, and she was nervous. But she felt more safe with her brother in her bed, than in a strange bed by herself.

          She didn't even moved from lying flat on her back and reaching over just to touch him, wondering what to do next, if her brother would do anything - for surely if he did, it would never be as painful as the horrible man who took advantage of her. Allen could never hurt her, he could never hate her for what happened. Besides that, he was always so soft - perhaps having something to do with being nobility and always fussing about gloves. But his cologne always lingered on his linens, and especially on his skin after a long day - a fresh beautiful scent of rose water and powder. She wanted to fall, and let herself be enveloped by that scent. Celena breathed in deeply through her nose, taking in his scent as if she were taking her first breath.

Allen sighed softly beneath her touch, careful to keep the weight off his injured shoulder as he lay down.  The touch of her hand was cool, but still warm, her hands soft, just as his own flesh was.  Even through all he'd been through, he was still so soft, though hard packed, thin layers of muscles lined the lithe body.  He had a fencer's build, a dancer's build.  

          He felt comfort in her closeness, tucking his head against her shoulder lightly, breathing in her soft scent as well.  Warmth.

Celena would not sleep yet, however. Everything taken painstakingly slow, she scooted her thin body to lay along next to his muscled frame. She wanted - and she couldn't explain why - to feel his hands . . . all over her body. At the curve of her soft hip, over the bone and down her thigh - at the clavicle of her neck, down her collar to her breast. The feel of him so close made her yearn for his simple touch.

          So she took his hand - gently into her own - and guided it slowly down the front of her nightgown which was already unlaced, and just barely brushing along the top of the silky mounds of her bosom.

Allen furrowed his brow slightly, turning his head towards her, warm fingers brushing against her flesh.  The movements were familiar to him, he'd acted them out so many times.  However, it was different, wasn't it?  His breath was soft, warm.

          "Celena," he breathed softly, unsure of what to say.

"Yes?" she said just as softly, feeling that he did not resist and so guiding his hand further down her front until his feather like palm cupped her smooth breast. She manipulated one of his fingers to caress her nipple, which was not erect, but ever so smooth - the softest part of her by far, it was like touching powder.

          Allen sighed softly, his breath warm.  He didn't need her guidance for this.  His touches were gentle and fleeting, smoothing his hands over her flesh carefully.  Exploring, testing, slight pressure from his fingers against her curves.

For the moment, she let him just touch her, until his hand try to go a little lower. Her night gown was restricting, and so she sat up and knelt before him on the mattress, having to break his contact from her skin. The night gown came off and pooled on the floor beside the bed.

          She was such a vision in the moonlight - her body was lithe like her brother's, but her breasts were ample for her being so thin. Her hair was silver-blue with the light of the Mystic Moon behind her, her soft curves illuminated by a ethereal glow. But she knew that no matter what she looked like, it wouldn't do much good. What mattered now is what she felt like - and she finally understood his reasons for not wanting her to get involved in heavy activity and swordplay.

           As she once again guided his hand to her breast as she knelt before him, she understood that he did not want his fingertips running over course veins of scars from battle, nor her hands callused and worn from holding a sword. Still, she needed to ask, "Am I soft enough, Allen?"

"Heavenly," the blonde knight murmured softly, tracing his hands over her curves.  He wouldn't go the full way tonight.  He hadn't prepared himself for such a thing yet.  He wasn't sure he'd quite come to terms with that aspect.  But his hands, with only the slightest calluses on their tips, smoothed over her flesh, teasing, finding some of her more sensitive areas.  He was obviously not new to this, to touching another's flesh, nor was he embarrassed or nervous about it.  He was calm as he traced her body, almost as if in wonder and reverence.  "An angel..."

She was glad her tears didn't show in her voice, though they dripped abundantly - having been produced from all the fear she felt in this new place, and all the happiness her brother gave, and still the shame that lingered from her first experience with a man. Her brother thought her an angel. Her heart sang! It beat furiously against her chest, her body trembling from the chill in the air and from the extreme nervousness she felt.

           "Would - would you make love to an angel then, Allen?" she managed to say, her jaw working hard just to force words out.

Allen tugged her close, brushing his lips against hers softly.  "Later... I'm not yet ready to take that from you.  But I will, of course, if you so wish it.  Let me simply hold you," he whispered softly.  For one, he didn't want to risk hurting his shoulder more and it was possible... really possible that it would happen.  He enveloped her in his arms, sighing a little.

She had been shaking horribly before his embrace, but now she simply settled herself - naked - against him. Her legs entangled themselves around his own and she held herself to him tightly, content in just feeling the lean muscles of his chest and arms. Celena listened to his heart beat, and his deep calm breaths before sleep finally claimed her.

He slipped into sleep easily, quietly, his breathing evening out.  He felt easy there, with her warm form curled close to him like that.  It seemed oh so right.  But Allen himself craved physical closeness from others as a form of comfort.  


	9. Wrong

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Wrong**

 **T**he sunlight did not wake him, but the sounds of those outside in the halls, moving quietly about, did.  He shifted, carefully drawing himself out of her embrace, wary of waking her, draping the sheets over her before dressing quietly in clothes he'd set out the night before.

Celena continued to sleep fitfully, having no responsibilities to frighten her mind into early waking. The sounds outside were muffled by the glass, but it was clearly the morning's field exercises - archery by the sound of the arrows making their deadly "thud" into hay bale bull's eyes.

Allen went about his duties, chatting with the soldiers easily.  He was easy to get along with, didn't hold his higher ranking over everyone else.  He didn't flaunt his knighthood.  He seemed in better spirits than he had the day before and his shoulder was feeling better.  All-in-all, a better day.

It was after dinner, when Allen was just about to retire into his chambers, that Celena came out in a flurry of ribbons and bows, bumping into her brother and knocking him solidly backwards.

            "Allen!" she exclaimed worriedly, "Are you alright?"

Allen started, stumbling a bit, but catching himself on the wall.  He blinked, grasping her arm gently.  "Of course I am, what's got you so worked up?  Are _you_ alright!?"  Panic fluttered in his chest.  Something was going on...

"Of course, I am." she assured him quickly, making sure he was steady on his feet - but the hold he had on her arm . . . he was concerned. So she smiled gently to him, letting her softness show in her voice, "Don't worry about me, I'm perfectly alright. I was called upon today, and I'm afraid I might be late."

"Ah... alright."  Allen smiled softly, nodding, his wariness easing.  "Do take care to have fun, hm?  And take your time.  Just because you're surrounded by soldiers doesn't mean you have to live an unexciting life."  Allen nodded slightly to her, his grip on her arm relaxing.

She giggled at him, so different from the melancholy of the night before, and quickly kissed his cheek. "I won't be very long. Just want to indulge him a little. Bye!" and again she left, the rustle of her skirts flowing around her ankles making an odd sort of sound to hear in the barracks of the fort. A moment later, she was gone down the stairs.

Allen smiled softly, pleasantly.  He was rather glad Celena was mingling with the others there.  It was a good sign.  After the event with the highwayman--which he still never spoke of the man's fate to her--he was afraid that the only men she wouldn't find herself wary around were himself, Elden and Gaddes.

A soft click at the door broke through the dark stillness of Allen's bed chambers, indicating the door had been locked. Just as quickly, the key scraped in the lock and was taken out.

Allen tensed slightly, turning his head towards the sound.  Gloved fingers curled tightly about the cane in his hands, unseeing eyes narrowing slightly.

Whoever the intruder was, he was a clever sort, and he crouched low to the floor, tilting his head up to throw his voice and make it sound like he was at a taller height. "Thought I'd surprise you," he said evilly.

Allen took a step back, a frown on his lips, heart racing.  He had his sword at his side, but it wouldn't do for close quarters like this.  The blonde knight stayed silent, though he had a mind to call out to Gaddes.  But his friend had likely retired for the night... and his rooms were too far down the hall to hear him.

The soldier had the advantage. He'd already acclimated his night vision for this, having stayed in the darkened room for long enough. By the light of the moon, he could see Allen's face tense in fear - and it gave him such pleasure to know this little whelp was afraid of him. Who was he, to outrank him at such youth - and blind, no less. It was disgusting.

             But he was a pretty little noble. No matter how much loathing he had for him, he would use it to the fullest advantage. He was quick, like any good Asturian soldier should be. The man launched himself to Allen, knocking him to the floor and pinning him. One knee on the hilt of Allen's sword made it out of Allen's reach, one hand twisted around Allen's wrist. He squeezed hard, forcing the cane out of his grasp.

Allen had just been about to move out of the way when he was shoved bodily to the ground.  He hissed softly as his shoulder hit the wooden floor rather hard, the sensitive, bruised flesh at his back flickering bullets of pain through his nerves.  Allen was strong for his build, but even still... he was a swordsman who focused more on finesse than strength.  And at such an odd angle, disarmed, and with his injured arm, he had a distinct disadvantage.  

            For a moment, he was a little dizzy.  His head had hit the floor a bit and he was reeling from it.  The blonde gritted his teeth tensely, the taut muscles in his lithe frame tensing immensely.  He didn't think it would be rape, no.  Just something of a beating.

The man quickly pinned Allen's arms above his head, grimly nails digging into pristine pale flesh. He leaned in close, his foul breath emanating strong stench of rum. "You are a pretty one," he seethed into Allen's ear, "Such soft pale skin, like that of a babe."

Allen drew his head back slightly at the words, biting back a groan as his shoulder pulled.  Drunk.

             Wait, pretty?

             Allen tensed, bracing his booted feet on the floor as he tried to pull away somehow, panic flaring.  

Pretty.  Soft skin... oh gods..

The man didn't have a mind to kiss him, just tear his clothes off. The gauzy poet's shirt ripped easily, one hand working down to the sash at Allen's pants and yanking hard on the loose ties, while the other kept an ungodly firm grip on the noble's wrists on the floor.

             "So pretty." he said wickedly, grinning, "And after you, I'll have me self some of the pretty little morsel that calls herself your sister. Pretty little silver haired wench. Too bad you can't see her, but all the better that you won't see her broken body next to yours."

Allen growled softly despite his panic, continuing to struggle against his grip, though it was useless and only managed to make his shoulder begin to throb anew.  His wrists hurt from the harsh grip.  

            "Don't you _touch_ her," he snarled softly.

A fist connected to the knight's jaw easily, even in the dark. "Oh, I will, mate. And there'll be nuthin' you can do about it." With that, he turned Allen violently over, pressing a knee into the small of his back as he harshly pulled down Allen's leather trousers to reveal the smooth white flesh of his buttocks. 

Allen reeled at the punch, was hardly aware of him being turned over.  The blonde hissed as his shoulder pulled, as he tried to jerk away.  But he knew the other man was stronger.  The blonde man spit out a spot of blood onto the floor, biting back the whimper that almost slipped from his lips.

"Aw," he said gruffly into Allen's ear, "I don't get a whimper from the poor little babe?" and he laughed manically, quickly working at his own trousers and letting his member dangle. It didn't take much for it to become erect and firm. His arms were freakishly strong and kept Allen pinned down underneath as he straddled the man, though he knew he was still probably dazed from the blow he gave him.

            Without so much as a warning, he thrust himself into Allen, stopping a moment for a smirk to come to his lips. "So the noble knight likes his jollies with men? Hardly surprising. Always knew you were a queer." And he continued his movements, in and out, in and out - until it seemed as if it would never end. He enjoyed this too much, indulged in it to end it so soon.

Allen cried out at the rough thrusts, gloved fingers curling tightly at the pain that lanced through him as the man impaled him.  His lithe frame shuddered, shivering beneath the treatment, blind eyes squeezed tightly shut as he fought back a sob, tears of frustration and pain brimming in his eyes.  Long locks of blonde slipped over his shoulders, pooling about him, hiding the fall of salty tears as they slipped over his cheeks.  So young... Allen was still so young...

             It had been a long time since he'd taken another man to bed and the muscles were hardly stretched.  He shuddered again, the softest whimper falling from his full lips.  Shame, pain, frustration... they all blended together roughly, swirling in his mind.

"That's right. Cry, for me, little babe." seethed the man, moving faster, more friction, more heat. He was glad he wasn't taking a virgin's tight arse, but it was still snug enough to find pleasure quickly. Faster, and faster, until finally - he released himself, giving one last shove all the way inside.

The lithe body bucked at the man's rough movements, Allen helpless against the onslaught.  Helpless.  He'd run into that a lot recently.

            Allen crumpled at the man's release, burying his face in his nearby arm to quiet the sobs that threatened.  He'd had no chance, none at all.  Crying was all he could do, especially to pull his mind away from the pain that seemed to permeate his nerves from everywhere.  His body burned and ached and he couldn't help but whimper again, softly as he felt the hot seed slick his bowels.  

Finished with his business, he pulled himself out and straightened the waistline of his trousers, tucking in his shirt. He stood and looked down at the noble he'd just taken his pleasure with, grinning. "You look pathetic. Lying there, crying like a little girl." A swift boot connected with Allen's gut.

Allen grunted at the kick, falling hard onto his shoulder and curled a bit, hissing softly at the pain.  He had no words to utter, couldn't get anything past the knot in his throat.  Allen... had once craved physical affection.  But now... now what could he do?  He'd been helpless again... pathetic.

             Just like the man said, pathetic... his title of a knight was a joke, after all.  He was still just a cripple, a helpless young man.  Long locks of gold clung to his skin frantically, and he coughed, spitting out blood that slipped into his mouth from where he'd bitten his bottom lip, the tender flesh already swelling slightly.

With a final smirk, the man started walking away, "And tomorrow night, I'll have a piece of your little silver haired angel." Sticking the key into the keyhole, turning slightly, he finished with, "All night long." and left with that, leaving Allen to his sobs on the floor.

Allen curled in on himself, aching shoulders shaking with the soft sobs that wracked his body.  He ducked his head, unable to stop the flow of tears that slipped from his eyes.

            He had to get away.  He had to get rid of the evidence.

            But he couldn't.  He couldn't move, couldn't bring himself to get up.  If he could just lay there...

            Celena.  He couldn't have her worry.  He'd make some excuse for her to be gone tomorrow night, as well.  She'd have to be gone.  Allen struggled to his feet, haphazardly pulling on his pants, wiping at his eyes with shaking hands.  The pristine white of the clothing were smeared with blood from his lips.  Aching, hurting, he shuffled towards the door -- how had the man gotten the key to begin with? -- and to the hallway.  He should wash the evidence from his body.

            Allen shuddered with the thought of being alone.  That man could return at any time...

            Without a second thought, he ambled towards Gaddes' room quickly, falling heavily against the door.  "Gaddes," he croaked out, his throat tight, raw from sobs and crying out.  Blood had dried on his puffed bottom lip, a healthy bruise forming at his pretty jaw.  He looked a mess, lithe body shaking rather like a leaf, looking distinctly young... and frightened.

It was not even midnight yet, but Gaddes had decided to turn in early after dinner. He'd been laying in his bed, half-naked and content with watching the moons from his bedroom window when he heard his name spoken just outside his door. He couldn't even tell who it was, it'd been so faint and torn. He immediately turned his head at the sound, before deciding it was safe enough to open the door.

            The sight that met his eyes put him into near shock. Here before him lay his poor blind friend, his shirt torn open, shaken to the core. There was no thought, no span of time that lingered, as Gaddes quickly pulled Allen inside, practically dragging him before closing the door and locking it. He moved to his friend looking him over.

             "Allen, what the hell happened?" He could not hide to absolute shock from his voice, frantically looking him over. "There's blood . . . holy shit, boss."

Allen's legs wouldn't hold him any longer and he slid to his knees, shaking, his head bowed.  He could smell it... all over him, he could smell it.  So dirty, so used...

            "Couldn't do anything," he sobbed softly, pressing his palms to his eyes as the tears started anew, "not a damn thing..."

            His shoulder, his body ached and throbbed, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.  He didn't know exactly what he was doing here... but Gaddes was the only one he could turn to, right?  Celena was off somewhere else, thankfully, and he wouldn't want to burden her with this anyhow, not with what had already happened to her.

            Allen's shoulders slumped even more, looking rather pathetic, a shadow of his normal noble, confident self.  "So... so scared..."

The first mate of the Crusade was nearly at a loss as it finally dawned on him what had happened to his captain. Such evil fiends residing in their own fort - to do something so horrible to not only their own commander, but a young man who'd faced too many hardships already. Gaddes brought Allen into his arms, finding no other way to be able to comfort his young friend, and hoping that his strong arms around the knight's shaking frame was even remotely enough.

            "Allen, it's okay," he found himself whispering into Allen's dampened hair, "It's okay, no one's going to hurt you. I'm the only one here. I'll help you, so don't you worry. I'm right here."

Soiled gloved hands shook as they clenched Gaddes' shoulders, the lanky frame shaking.  At first, his instant reaction was to tense, but it was Gaddes.  He knew that scent, that warmth.  Gaddes wouldn't hurt him.  Gaddes wouldn't let him get hurt, not while he was around.  Allen explained the occurrence in broken sentences, sobs slipping from his lips.

            He'd been so helpless, so unable to do anything.  It had been so easy for the man to overpower him.

             And when the tears dried and he could cry no more, he still clung to his best friend, frightened to let go, frightened to pull away.

It was near an hour that they stayed there, huddled on the floor, Allen with a vice-like grip on Gaddes. All Gaddes could do for a long period of the time was stroke the knight's back and hair, resting his head upon the golden crown of his friend. Somehow, he was able to get Allen to move, if even a little, so that he might give him a set of clean clothes and wash him up with a wet rag from his water basin.

             And Gaddes gave Allen his own bed to sleep on, Gaddes contenting himself with sleeping on the floor. Although, no sleep would come to him as he watched over the knight, who did not sleep either, but merely lay there on the mattress. He did not let go of Allen's hand, sitting up and leaning against the bed.

The morning came, and there was the usual activities of the fort outside, although instead of archery, it was the clashing of swords.

Allen was weary in the morning, as one would expect, and still rather sore all over.  He'd stopped shaking, finally, his whimpers and dry sobs falling into silence.  But even still, Gaddes was there, nigh too far away.  Early in the morning, the blonde slid off the bed to rest beside Gaddes, finding more comfort in that closeness.  The touch of his hand assured him that he was not along, that the other was there.

            He should have been out there among his soldiers... but he couldn't bring himself to, not like this... he looked horrible, he wouldn't be able to hide the puffed lip or the bruise at his jaw, marring the smooth, creamy curve of his flesh.

Gaddes' touch was ever gentle as he brought his hand up to meet Allen's face, touch his cheek and stroke his hair, "It wasn't your fault." was the first thing he could think of to say.

"I couldn't do anything to stop it," he murmured, shaking his head.  "If only... I could see, it wouldn't be like this."  That's what it boiled down to, really.  If he hadn't been blinded, he would have noticed the other man's presence, likely.  He would have been able to fight back easier.

"No," said Gaddes firmly, squeezing the other's man's hand with determined assurance, "You are not at fault, even if you could see, you're not at fault. Take my word for it, my friend."

Allen bowed his head with a heavy sigh.  "What did I do to deserve all this?  Everything that's happened... what did I _do_ to bring this upon me?"  The blonde shuddered slightly, curling his fingers--ungloved, for now--in Gaddes'.

The other man, always so careful with his movement, brought Allen into his arms again, wanting nothing more than to make him feel safe and secure within his embrace - like they had been not so long ago. "I asked myself the same damn questions," he said against the man's sunshine colored hair, "And it took me a really long time to realize that I didn't do anything - that I didn't deserve it. That _you_ don't deserve it and _you_ didn't do anything wrong. Do you understand?"

Allen curled up against the other, shaking his head.  "There had to be.  Somewhere, something..."  It could be explained that way, couldn't it?  Why all of a sudden Allen was thrown into a world where he felt helpless... utterly and completely helpless.

"There are so many evil people in the world, Allen," he said softly, sorrowfully, "They don't need a reason to hurt us. They just do. So there was nothing you did wrong to deserve what he did to you. Nothing at all in the world. Because you are a good person - you're the kindest person in the world who never did anything wrong. And I'm here for you. And Celena's here for you. We love you, Allen. You know that. We'll never let anyone hurt you."

Allen tensed a little, then groaned.  "Oh... oh, Celena... she can't know.  She _can't_... not after... not after that."  Not after what she'd suffered.  Allen shook his head, a frown tugging on his lips.  

            Without Gaddes there, the blonde didn't know what he would have done.  He likely would have gotten nowhere, likely would have scrambled back into his room and stayed there, cried alone.  But Gaddes gave him comfort when he needed it and then some.

"Okay . . . okay, I won't tell her. I give you my word that she will not hear a word of this." Gaddes pulled back slightly, cupping Allen's face in his hands and giving him a soft kiss on his cheek, in comfort and pure love - nothing more. "I promise."

Allen shivered slightly and nodded a little, unable to help leaning into the comforting touch.  He'd known that touch not too long ago, it was familiar and warm.  No matter if he could see or not, he'd always know Gaddes from the others.  Always.

            And that, in itself, was comforting.

With a few more touches of comforts and apologies, Gaddes was sorely sorry that he needed to excuse himself - he had a troop that needed to be led through some exercises. He took his time to get dressed, letting Allen sit on the bed and listen to his movements about the room before finally needing to leave. 

            "You can stay in here, if you want." he told him, "Unless you want to go back to your room, which is fine too. Just be careful. Lock the door behind you after checking your room, to make sure its safe. If _anyone_ give you problems, you come and tell me." And with a last kiss, he left.

Allen didn't want to leave, really.  Especially not with risking someone seeing him in the state he was in.  He was paler than usual, still a bit shaken from the past night's endeavors.  He stayed where he was for a long while, then stood, wandering idly around the room for a bit before he took up residence on the other's bed.  It was comfortable here... far less empty than his own quarters, and everything smelled like Gaddes.  He'd have to face Celena later, he couldn't avoid her for the whole day, but that worry would be for later, not right now.  

            Lulled by the familiar smells of the other man, as well as his own abundant weariness, Allen curled up among the covers and pillows on the bed, his unseeing eyes flickering closed, and slid into a light sleep.


	10. Matter of Honor

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Matter of Honor**

It was later in the day when Celena became frantic. Her brother was not in his room last night after she came back from her . . . date, she supposed she could call it. It was well after mid-night. What was odd, not only the late hour in which she found her brother missing from his very own chambers, but that his bed had not been used. Jealousy rose up, but just as soon as it came, it was gone.

            She'd gone everywhere around the fort the next day, asking around at all the soldiers if they'd seen Allen wander about. Surely her knight had duties to attend to - what was even more strange, that not one soldier . . . not _one_ . . . mentioned that he had seen him. Where in the world could he be? It was late in the afternoon when she finally came walking down the barracks wing with a vengeance in her step, calling out in the hallway.

            "Allen!" she called. She wore pants, and she was thankful that she did. Surely, at the pace she walked, the skirts would have tripped her by then. "Allen, where are you?" and she opened the door to his room again - still the same unused bed, not even the water basin wet from use.

Allen groaned from Gaddes' room, but didn't wake fully.  Instead, he buried himself further into the covers, curling up a little more, doing his best to ignore the aches in his body.  He hadn't meant to sleep so much... or sleep at all, really, but his body had taken over, forcing him to do it.

Woman's intuition could be a curse or blessing - depending on who was on the receiving end. Celena knew that Allen was close to Gaddes . . . she'd even known that there was an unusual closeness there, and therefore only had a hunch to go on. But she took that hunch, slowly making her way down the hall to the first mate's room. 

            The door only swung open a little, and Celena stared for a second - her brother's back was turned to her on the bed. He lay curled up into himself. For a few long, painful moments, she really couldn't say anything - and part of her didn't want to . . . thinking that Allen might be asleep.

At the sound of the door opening, Allen's eyes flickered open and he tensed, his heart speeding up in a panic.  His first reaction... he was back.  Back to shred what little pride Allen had left.  The blonde couldn't stop the soft whimper that passed through his lips, curling in on himself more.  

             The clothes he'd worn last night lay aside, the fine shirt torn, his body clothed in some that were, honestly, a little too big for him.  Gaddes'.  

            Her eyes widened in surprise when his whimpers reached her ears, and she hurried inside the room - the sound of her footsteps making him shudder for some reason. She was scared for him - because for some reason, he was deathly frightened of something. She touched his shoulders.

Allen curled up, tugging away from the light touch, burying his face in the pillows.  "No," he whispered, his voice trembling softly.

"Allen," she breathed, completely frightened herself. She'd never seen her brother like this - ever. Allen was strong, bold, and firm. . . the epitome of courage, herknight. She'd found him in Gaddes' room, at first suspecting that he was having an affair with his first mate but - no, he was scared and hiding from something. . . or someone.

            He had shrugged away from her touch, but she placed her hand on his tender shoulder again. "Allen, it's me. Celena. My knight, what is wrong? Why do you shrink away from my touch?"

Allen lifted his head slightly... Celena.  It had to be her, didn't it?  His mind raced.  What could he pass this off as?  The blonde knight shook his head slightly, not rolling over to face her.  

            "Dream... I had a dream..."

"A dream?" she questioned. Bringing her face down to his ear, she nuzzled him gently with a smile, "Have you been cheating on me with Gaddes?"

Allen started a little.  "What?  No... no, but you weren't there last night..."  The blonde shook his head slightly, knowing the excuse he'd given was lame.

"I wasn't . . .?" but she relented into a wider smile, "Oh, I see - so you're jealous too, then? That I was called upon by one of your dashing, roguish soldiers?" She stood up, sweeping around dramatically and putting a hand to her forehead, "And so you rush off into the arms of another man! Oh, woe is me..."

Allen almost smiled, but he couldn't quite.  "Something like that," he murmured, letting her tease.  Again, a source of normalcy, of rightness.

"Well, come on then. Don't be lazy!" She grabbed his arm and started to pull him up.

Allen hissed as his shoulder was jerked, wincing.  "No... no... want to sleep..."

"What?" she asked incredulously, "Sleep? It's nearly dinner time!"

"I'm not hungry..."

Now this, she knew was not normal. Something was amiss and again, she could not help but feel that frightening chill down her spine. "Allen, something happened. You're not like this. What's wrong?"

"Just leave it... I'll be fine..."  Panic started to flare again.  What could he say to her?  What would discourage her?

But somehow the memories came back to her. Everything she'd been trying to forget - successfully forgetting - all of it came back. The man, evil and wicked with horrible teeth, who ravaged and abused her body in the forests outside of their own home. How could she have forgotten so quickly? But she looked to her brother, looking so weak and frail and afraid - looking like she did that terrible night.

 She'd forgotten because he was her strength. Because he had pledged his love for her, had assured her that her beauty to him was unmarred - and so she fell in love with her pillar of strength. But he was no longer there. It was only a horrible reminder . . . but her brother? How could it _happen_ to her brother? Her knight? What evil force came forth from the abyss and did this, for surely no man could have ever touched Allen in her eyes. . . 

 Yet here he was, broken and afraid - and now suddenly she knew why. 

"It - no . . . Dearest Allen, no!" her voice was but a harsh whisper, barely audible in her complete shock, "How - how . . . my gods. No. . ." She tried to touch his shoulder, finding that her hand was shaking as she did so.

Allen drew away, shuddering slightly.  She knew.  She couldn't, he didn't want her to.  "Stop," he murmured softly, shaking his head a little.  Why did she have to know?  Why couldn't it have been a secret?

 Why did he have to be so helpless?

It was as if the Universe itself swallowed Celena, crumbled down on her like a thousand mountains, making her fall. Her eyes screwed shut, her hands clasped to her heart as if it had stopped - a devastating, silent wail formed from her mouth. The epitome of anguish, suddenly upon the two most gentle people in all of Gaea. Celena shook so hard, her curls bounced wildly. She finally fell to her knees.

 Her voice tore from her throat, a cry of such agony to make the very angels weep to their deaths. And in that cry could only be formed one word. 

 "_Why?!_" 

The sound of heartbreak could be heard by even the most deaf of men, but here only reverberated off of crackled plaster walls.

Allen winced softly, but said nothing.  His pride had been torn away, his shame complete.  Now she knew and that was worse than before.  She knew how helpless he was, she knew his weaknesses.

 She knew he crawled to Gaddes instead of her.

 The blonde had no more tears to shed, but if he had, he would have wept.  Her sorrow was his, his hands clasped, shaking, to his chest.

Celena's throat felt choked, her eyes refused to open, her hands were clasped beneath her chin. She rocked, and rocked, trying to comfort herself - broken sobs came from her torn voice. Her mind refused to work, but her lips kept chanting the same word of 'why' until she couldn't form them anymore. Somehow, she'd managed to crawl up onto the bed where her brother lay in turmoil.

 She didn't notice, or care, if he pulled away. Her arms were strong, and they wanted nothing more than to hold him to her tightly - like he had to her in her time of need. So she did, pressing her to him like her most precious doll, and sobbing into his backside.

Allen, at first, tensed immensely, his lithe frame shaking, though never to the extent he had the night before.  He was... frightened.  Of her.  Of what she might think.  Of her horror and her pain.

His helplessness had caused her pain.  He'd done it again... inadvertently hurting her.  Allen shuddered, his face pressed into the pillows.  Sometime, Gaddes would return, but he didn't know when.  He'd lost track of time, he didn't care...

Even as she sobbed, Celena held him. Even as he shook, she was there for him. She moved so that her mouth was close to his ear, nuzzling his head despite her tears dripping into his beautiful hair. And she spoke to him in between shuddering breaths.

  "We're in this together. You're not alone, I'm here - with you. I'm always with you. I'll never leave you. I'll always love you, do you understand me. I'm never leaving your side, ever. Together. We're always together, we'll always be together." The words themselves seemed convoluted. They came from her heart, and her heart being broken as it was, could only say the truth in so many words.

  She would never desert him for this. Not now, not ever - for he did not desert her. She would be damned if she let anyone near either of them again, the strength in her arms confirming her determination - her protection. Never again. "No one will touch us ever again." she said through clenched teeth.

Allen shook his head slightly.  "Just stop, please," he murmured, his voice quivering.  He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to think about it.  He just wanted it to go away.  Just to fade, to be forgotten, pushed aside.

 Allen pulled slightly out of her embrace, curling in on himself.

 Helpless.  Always so helpless.

Celena didn't know how to feel with her own brother not even wanting her touch - she didn't understand. She'd _craved_ his comfort . . . but when something just as horrible happens to him, he pushes her away? Her face only twisted in pain, suppressing a sob, and turning onto her side with her back against his.

 "No . . ." she pleaded with no one in particular, _please don't take him away from me._

 That was the state that Gaddes found them in, both huddled up on his bed with their backs turned to each other. He quickly shut his door, and looking back at Celena who'd been facing him, he could tell she was quietly crying to herself. So she found out somehow. He went over to them both, checking on Celena, who hardly responded, before checking on Allen.

 "Allen, how are you feeling?" he asked tentatively.

Allen ducked his head a bit, even at his friend's inquiry.  

"She knows," he muttered, almost bitterly... though he was sure it was obvious.   

 Bitterness directed at himself, of course, like always.  He couldn't help her when this had happened to her... he couldn't help himself... he was just generally miserable.  Very miserable.  She knew and he'd pushed her away for it.  His pride, maybe... he didn't want to tarnish her like this, she didn't deserve it.  He'd hurt her again, he knew... but somehow he couldn't find the energy to comfort her.

It was Celena who replied. "How could I *not* know?" she asked bitterly, accusingly, "It happened to me too. Gods, or don't you remember?"

Allen sighed, falling silent.  He didn't have anything to say... of course he remembered.  It was part of the reason he wanted to keep it a secret.  The blonde lay on the opposite end of the bed, curled rather tightly, ignoring the aches he felt physically for the one that tore at his heart.

Gaddes was at a loss. He had two distraught people on his bed, both of whom suffered recent malicious events that no person, man, women, child, should ever have to endure. He himself had sympathy for such people due to his own painful experience. But like this - he just didn't know what to do. Allen would not move, and it was probably better that way for now. So his only choice was to take Celena back to her room - since it was obvious Allen was uncomfortable.

 "Come on, Celena." he said gently to her, helping her straighten up to her feet. "I'll take you to your room. Might be safer for you to have dinner in there tonight, okay?" he patted her hand. She nodded softly in compliance.

Allen stiffened, sitting up so quickly that he got dizzy.  He shook his head to clear it.  

"No!  No, she can't stay there.. he... he said he'd go for her next, just..."  Allen gritted his teeth a bit, shaking his head.  "She can't..."

His suddenness made Celena stumble in surprise, and she reeled to look at him. "What?" she asked frantically, "But - but where would I go? We're miles from anything!"

"You can't go back," he shuddered, shaking his head.  There had to be someone she could stay with.  "I... you stay here."  

  He'd go back to his own room.  That would be alright, wouldn't it?  She'd be safe.  That was what mattered... he'd been shamed as it was, who cared if it happened again?  He was tarnished... all that mattered was keeping her safe.

"Stay here?" Celena asked, "With Gaddes? What about you? Are you going to stay here too? Gaddes, where did it happen?" she asked of the soldier who still had a gentle hold on her arm.

"Ah," Gaddes began softly, before whispering the answer in her ear. Her eyes widened visibly when she'd heard him say it took place in her brother's own chambers.

Allen sighed, shaking his head.  "I'll stay with Riden."  The thought of returning to his quarters, especially so soon, disturbed him and set him on edge.  He couldn't go back there.  She'd be safe with Gaddes and he'd stay the night with Riden.  He might ask questions, but Allen didn't think he'd mind horribly much if Allen didn't answer them.

"No," Celena insisted, taking her arm out of Gaddes' grasp and going to her brother again. She took her brother's arm and sat next to him on the bed, insisting, "I want to stay with you."

Allen shook his head slightly, carefully extracting his arm.  "No... you stay with him, you'll be fine here."  

"But, Allen . . ." she began to argue, unsure of what to even say to him. How do you deal with someone as close as Allen was to Celena - when they'd just been so violently abused? She had no answer, and only continued trying to take his arm for some sort of comfort - offering it, or receiving it, it didn't matter.

 Gaddes stepped up to them and knelt down on one knee, "Allen, are you sure you want to be separated from Celena after yesterday? Something still needs to be done. The men are looking for possible suspects - before you ask, they don't know what happened. Just that there were some soldiers they need to look out for . . . You've got many pairs of eyes that are loyal to you here, Allen."

"Gaddes... I was thinking about it earlier.  I... I'll take care of it.  When I can stop shaking enough to stand, I'll take care of it."  Allen sighed softly, a hand resting on Gaddes' shoulder lightly.  "I promise it'll be alright.  I'll be fine with Riden and she'll be fine here, with you."

 He didn't want her touch right now... it was too intimate... and he was still so tarnished.  Not until he'd gained back his pride, not until he'd taken care of this.

"Alright, Allen," he said softly to him, looking at the pale haired girl beside his friend as she finally gave up trying to hold some part of her brother to her bosom. "Celena, you'll stay here and sleep in my bed. You're not to move from my room. I'll have dinner brought to both of you. Allen, you need to eat something."

  It was like he turned from a first mate into Celena's usual role of doting aunt within a day's time. He would never deny that he cared for the fragile young people that sat so shaken on his bed - his heart broke with the turmoil they have to endure. . . just for being beautiful, gentle people. And damn it, that simply wasn't fair.

Allen sighed softly, but nodded.  He'd have to keep healthy to get past this, he knew.  At least Gaddes wasn't arguing about it.  "Get Riden, if you would.  That way he won't be as surprised when I show up."

"Okay, I'll be right back," promised the first mate, leaving quickly upon his task. Celena's voice trembled when she finally was able to speak to him privately - she was so confused.

 "I don't understand . . ." she whispered, finding herself unable to shed anymore tears from her reddened eyes. "Why don't you want me with you?"

"You'll understand later," he murmured softly.  Later.  Not right now.  He couldn't deal with it right now.  He was glad, for once, that he was blind.  He couldn't see her cry, he couldn't see her pain, though he could feel it.

 He had to redeem himself, first.

"But . . ." she sniffled, leaning away from him on the headboard of the bed. "Are you not my husband now?"

For only a few more moments there was silence that filled the room, save for Celena's sniffles - of which she desperately tried to quell the moment she heard a pair of footsteps outside of Gaddes' door. She looked to the heavy oak and watched as it swung open. Riden was nearly pushed inside by Gaddes, who shut the door behind him as quick as possible.

 "Alright, alright! I'm in, yeesh." said the smaller man with his loud mouth, "Yikes, boss. You don't look so good. Gaddes said I should keep you in my room, but he wouldn't say why and made me promise not to ask - so I won't ask." Truthfully, when Gaddes first told him that he was to harbor their commanding officer in his own room, Riden was more than a little frightened. He liked his commander and was loyal to him . . . but in his room? Even Riden could sense that something was going on, but the loyalty he held was thankfully far above any suspicions.

Allen managed a little grin.  "I bet I do look like I'm in pretty bad shape, eh?"  Paler than usual, the bruising dark against his pretty, pale flesh.  His bottom lip was still sensitive, though the swelling had thankfully gone down.  

 "I appreciate you tolerating me, I'm sure it'll be a little awkward.  But it shan't be for too long."

"Right, boss. No problem. Kio won't mind either - since I don't get my own room like the second in command. Lucky bastard, Gaddes." Riden always tried to make things lighter, and most of the time he managed quite well just by his ignorance and carefree demeanor. It might get him killed one day.

 Just as Allen was about to be lead away by the small soldier, Celena was reminded of something that had been precious - one of the very few memories she had of their mother. It came and went in a flash, and it was something to do with giving her 10 year old brother a kiss on the cheek before going to bed. She would always squirm and struggle when her mother said, _"Give your brother a kiss. Allen,  you too, give her  a kiss goodnight." _It was, after all, tradition to meet and part with kisses on the cheek. Allen, at that age, hadn't liked the idea anymore than Celena when she was 5. 

 But it was her mother's reason for such affection that struck her suddenly. _"What if you never saw your brother again, Celena? Don't you want to know that you've at least given him one last kiss?" _That it could be the very last time she ever saw her poor brother, the last chance to kiss him - for she really never hated him - oh, her mother was very good at guilt trips. Apparently, even from the grave.

 Celena launched herself from the bed to Allen, not caring what he might think, how he might react. One last kiss - that special kiss was laid upon his cheek, just in case she never saw him again. "I won't part from you without one last kiss." she whispered despairingly.

Allen started a little, turning his head towards her.  He was... startled, the movement unexpected.  The blonde sighed a bit, nodding to her.  He couldn't bring himself to return it.  He just couldn't.  Allen was a little shaky on his legs, but it was nothing too bad.  He could walk and that was what counted, right?

 The blonde turned to Riden, nodding to him.  "Lead on, then," he murmured softly, running a hand lightly through his hair. He felt bad for the way he treated her... but he couldn't do anything else.  He couldn't, not yet.

Riden let Allen take his arm, always the upper arm for reasons that Riden had a mind not to question. Both he and Kio situated their commander in the small room they bunked in, Kio offering to get a plate of food for his captain, and Riden keeping - for once - silent company. He couldn't help but always stare in fascination as his commander ate . . . and he _knew_ he was shaken up, but . . .

  "Hey, boss?" said Riden, Kio groaning as he sharpened his sword in the corner of their room. "What's all that stuff about potatoes at 12 o'clock and pork at 5 ?"

"Think about a clock, Riden," Allen murmured, lifting his head a little.  "I don't understand why she's so picky about it, but she is."  It might have been for his benefit, but he couldn't have cared less, really.   

 Allen shook his head slightly, sighing a little.  There were so many things she did for him that he could have done without.  But even still, they were touching.

"A clock?" said Riden, scratching his head and looking adorably bewildered. 

"You are such a moron," said Kio from his corner, giving his blade a long appraising glance down the length of it. "A plate is round like a clock, so if you think of a clock and where the numbers are, he can find the food on the plate." Kio, too, had his slow moments - so the fact that he'd figured it out before Riden was, in itself, rather impressive.

Allen grinned a little.  "I guess she does it for my benefit, but I don't see the point.  It all goes to the same place, eh?  And what does it matter if one thing's eaten before another?  But I wouldn't bother questioning her about it."

"Well," said Riden, prolonging the vowel as he really thought about it. It was almost childlike they way he looked when he asked questions. "I know I wouldn't like to eat something I hate. Like vegetables. So if she told me that vegetables were at . . . at - 8 o'clock . . . I'd stay the hell away from 8 o'clock."

Allen wasn't going to mention that Riden could see, but he nodded slightly.  "She's rather... obsessive about that, as well."  The food had to be right, perfect.  Nothing he didn't like.  She knew him well enough to be aware of such things.

"Well, at least you've got the idea, eh?"

"Yeah, I get the idea." said Riden happily. It was like he completely forgot why their commander was even staying with him and his bunkmate. One would suppose Riden was always a little flighty - on top of being loud mouthed and tactless. It was comical, the way he lay on his cot, fidgeting as he watched Allen . . . it meant he had more questions. And Kio was too busy with his precious sword to stop him.

"So, boss, do blind people read?" he asked in his usual carefree tone.

"Well, I'm sure there are ways that have been come up with.  Though I do admit I haven't gone out of my way to find out if it's true.  I believe Icarus might have mentioned something once, but I wasn't really paying attention."  The questions, while reminding him of his blindness, were comforting.  They kept his mind away from the occurrences of the night before.

Riden saw that Allen was quietly finished with his plate - the food having been placed on it most precariously, as per Celena's insistence. The smaller man hopped up from his bed and went over to where Allen sat on the floor against the wall, gently taking the plate.

"Let me get that for you, boss," he said, and set the plate aside on his storage chest. Taking a seat next to Allen - now that his commander seemed less intimidating - Riden brought a leg up to his chest and leaned back on the wall. "What about writing?"

"Well... eventually I'll get to it, I'm sure.  It's a skill I won't like having to give up.  Hopefully I'll find a way to deal with it accordingly.  Allen turned his head slightly towards Riden, inclining it a little.  He really was... rather easy to get along with.  Not that they didn't know that already.

"Yeah, boss," said Kio, who actually looked up from his sword to join in on the conversation, "You had really nice hand writing when ever you wrote letters to people. Guess that's something they teach you nobles from the crib, right?"

"It is."  Allen nodded a bit.  "I think mother wanted me to be a scholar more than anything else... but we saw how far I got with that, mm?"  Granted, his handwriting had been foppish... and Allen was just that.  Foppish.

"So, boss," Riden again, like a spark at Allen's right side. "Why'd you start using the cane around the fort?" Kio actually said nothing when this question was asked - whether it was because he, too, grew more comfortable around his commander or he just didn't care, no one could tell.

"Well... it took a bit of talking to get me to do it, but I know I'd have less of a chance of killing myself on all the stairs in here.  Which reminds me... I never realized just how many flights of stairs there are in this place.  But that's besides the point."

 Allen paused, staying silent for a long moment.  He trusted these men.  They would keep his secrets safe enough, just as Gaddes would.  He wouldn't tell them fully, everything that happened.  Last night would stay silent, but...

The blonde ran a hand through his hair with a soft sigh.  "There are a few newer residents that are a bit... disgruntled, I'd say.  I am, after all, younger than most of you, and, well... I'm blind.  Now be honest... if you hadn't served with me before all this and you got stuck out here with a blind commander who was younger than you, would you be happy?  I certainly wouldn't."

"Well, I don't know, boss," said Riden kindly, bringing his finger up to his mouth. His eyes stared up at the ceiling as he thought about his commander's question, before answering with a wide smile, "You're a nice guy. Being blind shouldn't matter. And being younger than us shouldn't either. _I'd_ still like you. . ."

"Yeah, boss. I'm actually gonna agree with Riden - but don't read anything into it, since he's still an idiot." That statement earned Kio a look of resentment from Riden, but he just grinned, "You're tough for a nobleman. And for your age. In fact, anyone who treats you bad - I'd still knock their skulls around."

"My thanks, then, to both of you."  Allen smiled a bit, rather touched by their loyalty, as well as their admittances of respect.  It made this whole thing at least a little bit easier.  "Well... anyway, I plan on taking care of that, and damn soon.  Shall we say there was an incident with the stairs?  That's how I dislocated my shoulder.  Allen shook his head a little.  Maybe they'd believe that was why he was all bruised up, too.

"Boss!" Riden exclaimed, "Are you saying that . . . with the guys you think don't like you? And the stairs? Boss, did they push you down those stairs?" Pretty quick for Riden - impressive. His tone implied that he couldn't quite believe anyone would willingly hurt their commander, on pain of discharge after a swift caning. Not only that but, who in their right might would maliciously hurt an innocent blind man? Riden's heart was almost too innocent, too naive to think of such cruelty.

Allen grinned a little.  "Not necessarily pushed, no.  But it was deliberate.  Bad thing is... I can't recognize them.  Their voices aren't that distinctive, and, obviously, I can't see them."  The blonde, shook his head.  "But I'll take care of it."  Just as soon as he could stand well, just as soon as he could wield his sword again.  "And if I didn't," Allen shrugged slightly, wincing slightly as his shoulder pulled.  Egh.  He'd forgotten about that.  "Gaddes and likely the rest of you would, too."

"I can tear their arms out for you, boss." said Kio angrily, "The moment I find out who those bastards are . . ."

"Just calm down a bit."  Allen held up a hand lightly, shaking his head.  "If what I'm planning doesn't work out, then we won't have much of a choice otherwise."  Of course... he 'failed' to mention just what he was planning... to Gaddes or anyone else.  Likely, they wouldn't approve of it.  But Allen had to fend for himself sometimes.

The word 'plan' made both their ears perk up. Riden asked, "So what's your plan for those scumbags, boss?"

Allen grinned a little.  Well, they asked, after all...  "I'm going to give them a chance to take care of their frustrations.  Of course, that'll have to wait until I can fight."  He didn't specify if it'd be one on one... or to the death or anything at all.  

"Alright! Sounds like another great show," said Riden happily, slamming his fist into his hand. "Your spars are always the best. And I'd seen other commanders. But now that you're blind, it's like it's even better . . . 'cause you can't see and you still kick their asses!"

Allen laughed a little, shaking his head.  "We'll see how this one works out, eh?  I'll be sure to make a show out of it for you guys."

Celena had laid down onto Gaddes' bed after her brother was led away. She couldn't understand why Allen didn't kiss her, or touch her - She loved him, wanted to soothe him, and he pulled away from her like she was some disgusting beast. It just didn't make sense to her above the hurricane of her emotions. She couldn't cry anymore for him, though. So she just lay on the bed, plate of untouched food on the little bedside table. 

 She could hear Gaddes was near her, never moving from her side - loyal to her just as he was loyal to her brother. She could hear him sigh softly, before mirroring it with one of her own - albeit a bit more shaky. "I don't understand," she admitted.

Of course she didn't understand.  Allen had told her nothing, he'd wanted to keep the past night's occurrences a secret from her.  For her own good, of course, but Allen was sure it hardly looked like that.  He had, after all, crawled to Gaddes' side for aid, he had not quite shied away from the other man's touch.  Allen had confided in Gaddes when he would not confide in her.

"He must think me a horrid thing," she said sadly, "Such an ugly little pest that doesn't deserve his embrace. Not after what happened - not after how it happen to . . . Oh, Gaddes! How . . . _how_ could it happen? To my brother . . . my _brother_ . . . my knight and protector?"

Allen had never claimed to be the strongest man, nor did he think he'd ever reach it.  He was not untouchable.  He'd thought it before, but these occurrences stressed that.  He was a man as much as any other.

 Allen had fallen from his grace more than once and each time he'd stood back up.  But what people didn't see was it wasn't his strength... but the strength of those around him.  Gaddes, Riden... all of those loyal to him, his sister.  They were all the sources of his strength.

Allen sighed softly, lying on his back in the dark... of course, to him, it was always dark, now.  One arm tucked behind his head, his eyes closed.  He wasn't asleep, no... but he was resting, thinking.  Tomorrow.  Maybe tomorrow he'd be fine enough.  Maybe tomorrow he could take care of the bastards that got him.

The next morning was cold, signifying the return of winter to the northern lands of Asturia. The clouds above were thick and gray - promising snow later that night. The wind actually started picking up, and woolen tunics were required to keep the troops from freezing in the biting frost. Celena woke up shivering. She hadn't even eaten the night before. Gaddes was already gone, probably having duties to attend to.

  She got up, still dressed in yesterday's clothes, and went quickly to Riden and Kio's quarters, knocking. 

"Green and black, gods, would it be too hard to pick them out?" came the murmured reply.  Or the only sound from the room besides the shuffle of movement.  

Celena recognized her brother's voice and felt safe opening the door - half-wondering if she would catch a glimpse of him . . . well, you know. "Allen?" she said tentatively.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hair--for once--drawn loosely back, tugging on his boots and tucking the legs of his pants into the tops of them.  The poets shirt was loose and flowing, fittingly foppish but still daringly swashbuckling.  His sword was once more at his side, as well.  The blonde turned his head towards her, arching a brow.  "Mm...?"

"Allen," she said again, closing the door behind her and pressing herself against the wall, "Are you better this morning?"

Allen stood, shrugging slightly and, finally, not wincing.  He tugged a green sash about his waist, tying it like it was second-nature.  He didn't need his sight to make sure he looked fine enough.  It was odd, at first, to feel his hair pulled out of the way, but he'd have to, just to get through all this.

 "Better, yes."  Anxious.  Finally ready, Allen slipped out of the room and turned down a familiar hall, leaving the cane behind for now.  He wouldn't need it in a fight.  "Come on, take me to Gaddes, would you?"

She was wary to touch him after the day before. Her hand slowly moved through the air to take his hand, but just after that contact, she couldn't fight her urge to hug him. The man was 6'4" easy, so her arms naturally fit around his middle. Just as quickly as she did it, though, she moved away and led him down the halls outside.

  "Gaddes is in front of his troop right now," she said, though she was perfectly aware that Allen could probably here the soldier barking orders to those under his command. "Maybe 40 steps away."

Allen strode out rather proudly, sure there were no stairs there before him, chin held high.  He'd convinced Riden to cover up the bruising with a little bit of makeup ("Why do you keep this around, boss!?"), the sash at his waist fluttering excitedly at the brisk pace he took outside.  Lightly stepping out into the overcast light he could not see, he walked over to Gaddes, standing beside the taller man for a moment before ever so subtly nudging him. 

 The blonde's body thrummed with excitement.  He'd take care of those soldiers today alright.

There were two troops going through exercises on the fields. One was being led by Gaddes, and the other was an new comer sergeant. Both of them called for attention, at which point the troops snapped into ridged posts in straight lines along the courtyard.

  "Commander on the field!" they barked, and both sergeants went up to Allen and saluted. "Sir!" Gaddes had an idea of what Allen had in mind - he was different today, very different from the cowering form on his bed from the day before. Today he had a look of revenge on his face, masked by harsh confidence and determination.

"Gaddes, are all the men gathered?"  Allen arched a brow a little, once again with that commanding air about him, though he rather did look the part of the fop.

Celena tactfully stepped away from her brother, back on the steps before his castle. 

Gaddes gave a robust, "Yes, sir!"

Allen nodded, resting a gloved hand on the hilt of his sword.  "Very well, then.  I haven't had much time to properly introduce myself to those new faces within this fort, so here I am.  Knight Caeli, Allen Schezar."  The blonde's voice did not tremble, his stance steady and at ease.  As he had been far before all of this.  

 "One thing all... all of you will learn is that we don't tolerate anything past the usual, accepted rowdiness.  We were all shoved out here for a variety of reasons that most don't wish to talk about, but even still.  This is a military establishment and I will have discipline here."

 "One of the first pieces of discipline is the respect of your commander.  And if not true respect, then relenting to his or her orders... because quite simply he or she has control over what happens in your lives, determines the correct course of punishment for those paths we'd all rather not trod.  But... I am a lenient man."  The lithe frame took on a challenging, harder edge, demanding his respect.  "And I am more than willing to hear the complaints of my men.  After all, how would I earn such respect without it?"

"And thus, I propose this to you.  I give you the chance now to step forward and take out your frustrations, if you will.  Force me to prove to you that I am, even with my lack of years and my blindness, still your commanding officer.  I will earn your respect, just as I did these other men.

 If you find troubles with me, then step forward now.  My leniency will not last past this morning."

The chill wind was, for a very long minute, the only sound that was made in that court yard. Not a man moved, save for looking at each other with confused expressions. There was a slight clinking in their armor, the sheaths of their swords clacking ever so slight against the blades they carried. Even after that long minute, no one spoke for another two until the sergeant of the second troop finally stepped forward.

"No one here seems to question your authority, Commander Schezar," he said, his western Asturian accent showing through. "Nuthin' else to do here then, sir?"

"We will wait.  There are always those who are not content with how things might be going."  Allen shook his head slightly.  The silence began to grate at him, but he stood strong and still, waiting.  He would wait them out.  He had to.

Finally, one of the men under the new sergeant's troop spoke up, "I will challenge the captain!"

"Very well.  That is one.  Are there more?"  Allen's hand had not moved from the sword hilt at his waist, waiting.  There had been at least two involved.

A few more moments, and no one else came forward. The man who'd spoken briefly weaved his way through the ranks and stepped up to his commander. A look of disgust finally came across the sergeant's expression, showing through in his voice.

 "If no one else steps up, then I will come forward and challenge the whelp." he said.

Allen simply smiled a bit too kindly and set his feet slightly apart.  He drew his rapier, inclining his head.  "Very well.  Right then, both of you, come on."  The blonde let the tip of his sword point at the ground, as he had done before.  _This is for you, Balgus... I can only hope you're proud of the way I've turned out._

  He'd promised Riden a show... and he'd give them a show.

Then more boot steps could be heard, running through the ranks and meeting up with their sergeant. At least three pairs of boots stepping hard onto the cold, dusty ground. 

 "We'll not let the sergeant fight without us!" said one of them.

 "We shouldn't have to serve under a fop." said another.

 "Your blindness insults us!" said the last.

 "There, you see - oh, no you don't, do you? But me troop speaks out plainly. We shouldn't have to suffer the command of the handicapped. It's an insult to the crown and to us." said the sergeant. Gaddes started getting nervous, as did the crew of the Crusade. Most of them were gasping, the rest of the troops murmuring amongst themselves. Mostly questions of, "What's going on? . . . is this even right? . . . I feel bad for the commander. . . ."

"Then let us be done with it.  As I said, I demand discipline within my ranks.  And whether or not you like it, you are still within my ranks."  He'd fought off ravenous mobs before.  The insults seemed to slide right off him, his being visibly unaffected.  "Until, of course," and there was that small, challenging grin, no longer a shadow of their old commander, taking incredible risks, "I fall dead."

"Oh, this will be fun. But we wouldn't want to rid the fort of such a pretty thing." sneered the commander. Celena's cry pierced right through the winter's chill.

 "No! Allen, you'll be killed!" she yelled.

 "Boss! Are you sure that's a good idea?" said Gaddes from next to him.

Allen held up a hand.  "If I back down from this, I'll never have their respect.  Both of you, all of you," he spoke, of course, to his old soldiers, those he'd trusted his life with hundreds of times before, "keep out of it."  

 The blonde crouched low, sword rapier held just slightly out from his side.  That's why he'd tied back his hair that morning, to keep it out of the way.

One of the new sergeants followers decided to attack first, blade low, slicing through the very wind. His foot steps were heavy as they ran forward, the sword singing through the air, about to come down on Allen's right side.

Always light on his feet, Allen rolled to the side and lurched forward a little, bringing the blade up to clash against the other man's, the unoccupied hand crossed over his stomach, resting at his hip.

A look of surprise came over the soldiers face, and to him, that seemed enough for him. He stopped suddenly, moving aside and sheathing his sword.

 "What are you doing?" demanded the corrupt sergeant. But the soldier answered calmly.

 "This man is worthy of my respect. I will not fight him."

 "Are ye stupid, lad? You barely touched his blade with your own --" but the other soldier simply walked back into the awaiting ranks, who were watching the scene with an almost morbid fascination. It seemed that it didn't take much for the other men that had stood by the sergeant to rethink their complaints. The sergeant grabbed the arm of the last one walking away.

 "Doesn't he insult you?!" screamed the sergeant - there always seemed to be at least one corrupt soldier in ever troop. The soldier reeled on him, taking no heed to be respectful to his superior officer. As far as he was concerned, the sergeant got himself into this mess.

 "Sir, he honors us. To avoid a formidable attack like that, and blind, it is a wonder that such skill and pride has not put you in awe. Respectfully," he finished, wrenching his arm away and walking back to take his place among the troops.

Allen stood up, straightening again, inclining his head to those who had relented.  Then he turned his sightless gaze to the sergeant, arching a brow, rather aristocratic about it the entire time.  "Well then, how shall we do this?  I'm sure you still find my command rather disgusting.  So... how will you be satisfied with it?  Or shall I have to kill you here and appoint another sergeant?"

"You cannot kill me," snarled the sergeant, "I'll not have a blind fool outrank and best me. It's a shame to be having to lose something so fine as that pretty pink skin." He charged, without any warning, no growl to give away his start, nor a cry torn from his throat. He simply ran, blade at the ready and arched behind him wildly, the tip aimed mercilessly towards Allen's heart.

Allen stayed still until he was near... he seemed as if he'd just let the man skewer him right there.  But he slid rather gracefully to his right, a quiet, but sharp turn on his heel as he brought the sword rapier up and a quick, snapping movement and felt it dig into the flesh of the man's underarm.  

Allen hadn't been kidding... he wasn't going to take this shit anymore.  He yanked the blade up roughly, bracing the hilt with both hands as the impossibly sharp blade careened through flesh and bone, severing the limb.  Allen skipped back, always light on his feet, and grinned.

"One for one, I'd say.  Who's the cripple now, eh, sergeant?  Should I take off the other one so we'll be even?"

The corrupt sergeant let out a shrill cry of pain, searing white hot agony pouring through him and rendering him to the ground. His body convulsed from the pain, his sword hand having dropped the blade and was now holding onto his wonder with a steel grip - which only made it bleed worse. Celena watching with horror - she never remembered seeing so much bloody, and she couldn't help but let out a gasp.

 Gaddes winced as the man kicked around dirt with his spasms, smearing his clothes with his own blood and watching the sergeants stump pour out the life from his evil, corrupted being. No one spoke as they watched, hardly even a gasp. The wind cried through the courtyard like banshees, blowing the soldier's hair in their faces. No one spoke - and no one helped the bloodied sergeant.

 There was no healer, yet no one bothered to move for the sake of the man, and as he slowly died, pale and full of rage, not one saluted him to his death. Finally, the body stilled - the corpse drenched in crimson and the severed arm not far from the body.

Allen was silent, carefully wiping the blood from his pristine blade, never minding the smatters of blood that had stained the cotton white of his shirt.  Even if he was young, and pretty for a soldier, with the wind streaming through his hair, his stance set hard and confident, gloved hand resting on the hilt of his sword, he did seem the part very much so, a commanding presence hanging about him.  When the sergeant grew still, Allen crouched down beside his body and murmured a soft prayer to his departing soul.  That man had committed great evils unto the young man, but Allen would not disrespect him so, as to not send his soul on the way with a fair enough blessing.

  The blonde stood, then turned his head towards where he knew Gaddes stood.  The blonde reached up and wiped away the streak of blood from a pale cheek, none of it his own, of course.  "Gaddes, be sure to have him buried among the others that have fallen.  He might have been a distasteful fellow, but he was one of my soldiers nonetheless."

 With that, he turned back to the other soldiers, inclining his head slightly.  "A pity that it had to end up this way, but I hope I can proudly say that I have your respect... because I would be honored to have it."

It was silent for a while, men looking at each other, all of them having witnessed the death of their sergeant by a simple swing of Allen's precise blade. They were awed into being speechless. Finally, after much internal argument, Kalban spoke up from the deceased sergeant's regiment.

 "You have my respect, Sir Schezar!" he cried, saluting. The quick snap of heels and fists thumping on hundreds of strong chests told Allen that all the soldiers in the courtyard followed suit. All of them were saluting him, whether they were intimidated to cross him or just amazed the blind man was still alive, no one could say.

 Celena sat on the steps, feeling exhausted just from watching the show. The crew of the Crusade were also saluting. Not one person in the dust filled winter wind would have thought to cross Allen with how proud he looked - and not one person ever questioned his authority.

Allen inclined his head slightly, a soft smile on his lips.  He, in return saluted them.  "Now... if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to change clothes.  These are terribly bloody."  True to himself, of course.  

 "Gaddes, make sure the rum isn't watered down and hand a bit out tonight over dinner, mm?"  Allen waved over his shoulder at him.  Well, at least that was done with.  Slipping quietly inside, he navigated his way to his room, tugging on the clothes he'd had Riden pick out that morning so he could change into them afterwards.  He expected to get a little messy. 

Celena was left on the front steps, her brother walking passed - she could hardly take her eyes away from the bloody mess he'd made of the horrible man in the dust. Finally tearing her eyes away, she stumbled down the halls and towards his room, but there stopped. Would this have scarred him even more? What if he was so distant from her now that he would be inclined to send her away? Back home to Palas to live in the manor . . . by herself, with a few maids to tend to her.

 Her hand was placed gently on the door, palm flat, and feeling the wood. She argued mentally with herself whether she would be received well.

Inside, he quickly changed clothes--though they were still in the same foppish, comfortable fashion of his, tugging his hair out of the ponytail, sighing softly as it fell loose, streaming locks of gold against his back.  In the basin, he washed his hands of the blood that had seeped through his gloves, the soft sounds of his boot heels ringing out in the general quiet.

She overruled knocking, and simply opened his door, shuffling inside quickly before burying herself underneath the covers of his bed. She knew she didn't want to be around any of those soldiers - for some reason, the blood had scared her and all of them watching with morbid fascination made her uncomfortable. She didn't like the looks on their faces. She also just wanted to be in Allen's bed, knowing that his pillows smell like him and his rosewater cologne.

  If she couldn't have her brother, the next best thing was surrounding herself with his scents. And if anything, maybe she wouldn't have to say anything to get his attention if she just showed up in his room. 

Allen turned his head slightly towards her.  "You shouldn't have had to see that, you know.  I should have made it out there myself without bringing you into it.  So... I'm sorry for that.  It's not something a lady should have to see at all."

"I'm tired of being a lady. I'm not a lady, Allen. Please stop calling me that." she said, turning to face him on her side. "Much in the same way that you might still fancy yourself a gentlemen. But you are not. You're like me." Her face buried into the pillow. "We're just fooling ourselves."

Allen stiffened slightly, looking rather, deeply offended.  "I still pride myself a gentleman, even if you do not."  It was almost angry, the words he spoke and the way he spoke them.  With that, he turned, stalking out of the room irritably.  

Well, that had just ruined the lightness of the day.


	11. Killing Frost

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Killing Frost**

Turning through the halls, he moved quietly up a flight of stairs he knew well enough from when he'd first come here.  He'd go up the ladder he was pulling himself up now... and he'd sit on the railing and stare at the stars.  And Gaddes, when it grew late, would come up and they would talk and then he'd usher Allen off to bed.

Comfort in memories.  

Allen sighed, bowing his head against the railing.  

Maybe she was right.  A gentleman wouldn't find such... pleasure in vengeance.

From behind Allen, a pair of strong hands draped a heavy woolen cloak over the knight's shoulders. It was Gaddes, of course - coming up early that morning after the events that transpired in the courtyard. He had dismissed his troop of their exercises for the time being, while he went to search for Allen - the cloak in tow, just in case his hunch proved correct.

And it did. "I didn't think you'd ever come up here again." he said gently.

Allen sighed softly, shaking his head a little.  "I didn't either.  But... it's comfortable here," he murmured softly, forehead against the railing still.  Allen was silent for a long moment before another soft sigh slipped from his lips.

"Maybe she's right... I only pretend to be a gentleman.  After all that's happened, I couldn't be one, could I?  A gentleman wouldn't find pleasure in killing that man.  But... I _did_.  As morbid and sadistic and disturbing it might have been, I did."  The blonde tugged the cloak close about him, straightening after a moment.

"Did Celena tell you that you're not a gentlemen?" Gaddes was rather surprised that the gentle young girl could even say something so harsh to her brother.

"I apologized for dragging her into that.  She was shaken by it, you know... and then she told me that she wasn't a lady... any more than I'm a gentleman.  That we're the same, all because of, well... you know.  She said we were just fooling ourselves.  And maybe we are."

"Allen," said the soldier sadly, shaking his head and coming up next to his friend. He placed his hand on the man's arm gently, reassuring. "You and Celena are the two most refined, most gentle people anyone on Gaea could ever know. Nobility or not - it doesn't matter. There are few people, if anyone, who are deserving of your companionship and care. You both went through something horrible - and I can honestly sympathize. You know that. But something like that would never take away who you are, because both of you are strong. You have always been a gentleman, just as she has always been a lady."

"How can I be sure I'm not just trying to hide who I really am?  I _enjoyed_ that down there, Gaddes.  It's like I've learned nothing from the war with Zaibach."  Allen shook his head slightly, leaning a little against the man.  They'd had conversations like this before, hadn't they?  Only... far less traumatic, really.

  "When was the last time we were up here like this?" The blonde breathed the question softly, a faint smile on his lips.  "We'd end up talking about some of the most stupid things sometimes."  Allen motioned with a faint motion of his hand.  "The chairs would be there and you'd sit there with your arm on the railing and we'd chatter on about how stupid philosophers were and how big the alligators and mosquitoes are out here."

Gaddes laughed slightly at the change of subject, enjoying the memories. Breaking his contact from the knight, who continued to stand and stare into nothing, he went over to pull the two chairs out from the shadows in the corner. "The chairs are still here," he said, "Well, by that I mean I made sure there were chairs after rebuilding."

Allen blinked, turning his head towards him.  The blonde smiled softly.  

 "Did you ever _expect_ me to return?  To be stationed out here again?"  Did you want me to be stationed here again? was the question he wanted to ask, but he couldn't.  No matter how much he loved Celena, there was still that special place for Gaddes.  He couldn't love anyone enough to shove him out of his heart.

"I -- uh --- I guess you could say that," he answered bashfully, always scratching his head when he got embarrassed. "It was a shot in the dark -- uh -- no offense . . . but I just figured you might at least visit, I guess."

"I remember after I'd gotten over being that horrible mess I was for so long... sometimes thinking about coming back.  But I couldn't, not then ... I wasn't part of any military then.  And when I'd been inducted back into the Knighthood, I kept hoping to be stationed here, even if it is the middle of nowhere."

"I think the rest of the guys hoped you might have come back too. All of them requested to be stationed here. It was a fluke that I was assigned a sergeant position in Fort Castelo. I'm sure you could imagine my surprise when I found the crew here, and then finally when you came." he chuckled, scooting the chairs close the railing.

Allen smiled a bit, sliding into the chair, the second on, further away from the railing like he had before.  "It hurt, really... to think of possibly never getting to come back here.  Even if I can't see it with my eyes, I still remember it as clearly as if I could.  It's... where I feel right.  Not in the manor, but here, with all of you."

"The guys and I were all happy to have you back, Allen. But the manor is your home." He smiled, sitting across from his friend and touching his arm again, "Still, we're glad you've come back. If just for not getting a stuffy veteran in your place."

Allen chuckled a little.  "Home is where you feel most comfortable... and that's here.  For all the part of the gentleman I might play, servants constantly waiting on me, doing _everything_ for me... it just doesn't feel right.  There, I have to play a part.  But here, around all of you, I can be myself without fear.  All of you know who I really am."  

  Celena was a different story.  He wasn't sure she knew, just as he wasn't completely sure about her, either.

"Well, Allen," began Gaddes, as if reading his friend's mind, "What about Celena? You say this is your home, but is she comfortable living here? Willing to live here for long periods of time? I mean, you know we're all glad to have you here - and your sister. But have you thought about what to do with her while she's here?"

"I've no idea.  I know it's horribly unfair to her, but I can't just leave here.  I've been stationed here, I have duties here... she knows that she's welcome to leave if it suits her.  Though, admittedly... I wouldn't want her to."

"Of course, I wouldn't want her to either. If for nothing else than to keep her safe within the castle walls." Gaddes studied his friend's face, trying to look past his heart breaking vacant gaze. His mouth was set, slightly down turned, the brow furrowed ever so slightly. Gaddes sighed and looked up at the dreary winter sky.

  "It's an ugly day today. With this kind of weather, It'll probably snow tonight."

"I wouldn't be surprised, what with how chilly it is."  For a moment, thoughts of Celena brought back those bitter words and anger and offense rose within him.  How could she think such a thing--much less say it--when she knew how much such vain things mattered to him?  It was all, really, he'd aspired to be.  A proper gentleman, but he hadn't even done that right.

 And after that, as the anger faded, he was left with that longing.  She was his sister, sure, but he hadn't been raised alongside her, really.  She had been gone so long...

 To him, she was almost a stranger, though he knew her better than any other still living.

"What's the matter, boss?" asked Gaddes quietly, "You got this far away look - like you're thinking about something deep."

"Mm?  Oh... just Celena."  He sighed softly, shaking his head a little.

"Ah. Listen, I'm sure she's just feeling a little snubbed right now. I'm guessing that's why she said what she did. You know? She's just upset at you for ignoring her." And under his breath he added, "It's beyond me why she would, though."

"I wish she would understand... I don't deal with things the way she does.  She wanted my comfort, but all I could think of was how _dirty_ I'd been and how much I didn't want to soil her with it.  And... you saw how she reacted when she found out.  She can't picture anything like that happening to me, I'm supposed to be strong for her.  And if... if I'd let her comfort me, I'd just end up crying, like I did with you."

"Crying is natural. We all cry." He took his hand and squeezed it, "Your sister cares for you, and I know that for a fact. Otherwise, I don't think she would have called you to her after it happened to her. When I saw her with you yesterday - the look on her face." And he went quiet for a moment, "Anyway . . . you know what I mean."

Allen lifted his head a little.  "What look?"  He couldn't have seen it, no.  But he was sure it wasn't good.  He'd probably hurt her again.  Allen almost panicked.  He kept doing that...

"Well," he took a breath, "It was not unlike the look you had on your face when you found out what happened to her in the forest. The same look when you went to her and held her. . . I - I think she was already prepared to be your strength, like you had been for her."

Allen nodded slightly, sighing a little.  "Well,  you know it better than she does... I just have a hard time letting go.  I have such high standards for myself and if I can't keep them, then I just... well, you know all about that.  Maybe it's from growing up the way I did, I don't know." 

Taking it all in, Gaddes carefully thought about the events as they happened. How his friend sought no comfort from his horrors but gave comfort readily when his sister needed it. Celena on the other hand, tried to mimic her brother, at which point she was quickly pushed aside. Gaddes sighed heavily. They were beautiful people, yes – anyone would admit it. But by Jechia, did this family have issues. And here he was, Allen's second in command, having to sort it out. He loved his friend, but he would readily admit how frustrating it was if ever asked.

He looked to Allen again. The man was not the same, sitting there in his usual loose attire of cotton and leather, cloaked in the woolen mantle Gaddes had draped over him. His head was slightly bowed, his sightless eyes half closed and hidden behind thick locks of golden hair. His demeanor around people had changed as well – still tall, still commanding. A new person would speak and his head would turn toward it in surprise, his hands would be kept nearer to his body as if afraid to come into contact with someone by accident. It was just different – to look at someone who can't see you, can't see the chair they sit in, or the world around them.

It took Gaddes looking into himself and his own feelings. How he felt when he'd found Allen leaning on his door after surviving a monster, taken him in, soothed away his fears. Celena – that's all she wanted to do too. It was a big complicated game of life that the young sergeant didn't think he had the mental capacity to successfully work out. He just knew something at that moment, and acted on it, hoping that some god out there would keep it from backlashing violently.

Gaddes clasped Allen's hand. "Allen, she loves you. There's no two ways about it. You can't push her aside, because if you do, the only thing she'll want to do is what you're doing to yourself. My point is, you need each other. After so long, so much time, so many heart aches and tragedies without someone like her there for you – without your family to love you. . . the time comes when something horrible happens and you _do_ have that family there for you. . . but for what? To cast them off because you feel unworthy?

And how did Celena felt when she was violently taken by that animal? Do you suppose she felt unworthy of you? And did she cast you aside? I'm only telling you this because I fear for the consequences of your actions – while I'm well aware that you would take the full responsibility of them – I do not want to see you lose that last part of your family that you so strived to have returned to you."

Allen listened to his friend, as he always did, picking the words out carefully.  It was actually rather nice that it was put out before him so, especially by Gaddes.  The blonde sighed a little, inclining his head.  "I can't not do it, though.  It's my natural reaction.  I don't want to burden her with these things, she doesn't need to be troubled with them.

I know I should realize that mind that she wants it, but... I cannot.  I can't bring myself to, and I know it's a horrible thing.  It's like I can't trust her... or that's almost what it seems like, but it's the complete opposite.  I don't want to lose her, but... even if we know each other rather well, there are still things we have to learn.  I won't say only here... there are plenty of things I must learn about her, as well.  We don't react the same way towards occurrences... and shamefully I will admit because I put far more value in pride and honor and such things than she does."

"Right - because you're a gentleman," Gaddes sounded defeated, as if his own words would make no difference in the end. Of course, he'd been selfish to think that he _could_ make a difference. Despite all the time he spends trying to sort out the issues the siblings have, it all comes down to solving their own problems. It's just something they have to go through on their own. So with that in mind, Gaddes tactfully changes the subject.

 "The troops ought to be careful in the winter," he said. "It snows around these forests, but its so moist on the ground that it freezes. I guess we'll need to find a replacement sergeant." He sighed, and stood up. "I need to get back to my duties. Since you're still settling in, I don't think anyone will mind if you stay here for a bit."

Allen turned his head towards Gaddes and nodded slightly, but stood.  "I've indulged in my time up here.  There are duties I must attend to as well."  Namely, his sister.

 The blonde rested a hand on his friend's shoulder with a soft sigh.  "Thank you... I always appreciate what you do for me, and I appreciate this even more."

Darkness. Black as pitch, descended over Celena's heart. Not unlike the way it had fallen over her brother's eyes. The feeling in her stomach was as if her gut were carved out, leaving her empty. There was nothing she could do, and another piece of her fell. She had been used, another part of her fades. Unwanted, and the glow in her sapphire orbs dim to nothing. Her legs moved without her knowledge, numb from the cold and unrelenting wind. Hollow could not even begin to describe how this poor innocent youth felt. A girl thrown into such tragedy, a walking shell of a person once so filled with beauty and wistfulness.

Allen didn't need her, didn't want her touch or comfort. He had been violated, just as she had. Now he felt what she did. He felt dirty, she supposed. Because she felt dirty. Used, beaten, and now left torn and ugly. Her own brother couldn't stand to be near her, much less seek her comfort. The very fabric of her thoughts felt heavy in her head, making it bow. No tears, no. No more tears could possibly form in her eyes – not with this emptiness inside of her. Some horrible, malicious creature was eating away at her insides, twisting them, gnawing at them. She carried this creature around like a parasite – unaware that it had always been there, waiting. It wanted to eat her, to take her, to tear at her heart. Now it got it's chance.

Celena was only vaguely aware of her surroundings. Somehow she'd managed to get out here in the forests. Somehow she'd remembered to bring a flimsy cotton shawl to cover her shoulders from the winter's frost bite. The layers were too few for her frail body, but she did not notice herself shivering, or her jaw clenched from pain. Her feet dragged on along the frozen ground, and occasionally her eyes would wander and stare at them as they moved so slowly across the path. She was sore. She was following something – the sound of a river. 

There was a river behind the fort, and a waterfall. Through the trees and growth, she could hear the clashing of the water as it flowed over rock in white swirls of foam. She was staring at the ground, at her feet, as she walked and then the edge came into view. She had found the river, deep in the forest behind the castle. How long had she been walking? Numbly, she looked up and was barely able to make out the fort walls – quite a distance away from where she now stood. Her mind reeled for a moment. Then she calmed and sat by the river.

Her hand moved over the water, a slender finger pushing through the swirling surface before being pulled back, clutched to her chest. The water was freezing.

Allen had gone about what duties he'd found for himself and planned on finding Celena out later.  Dinner time came and passed... and still there was no sign of his sister.  He felt panic grow in his stomach, asking around if any of the soldiers had seen her.  One of the faceless new soldiers there mentioned seeing her leaving the fort earlier.

  "The swamp," Allen murmured, terrified at the prospect of her wandering out there.  "She couldn't be that... naive."  Again, Allen made rounds of the fort.  He'd kept to his promise to Gaddes and Celena both that he'd start using the cane and, honestly, it did make things a bit easier.  Tugging his cloak closely about him, he ignored Riden's complaint at him going out--into the swamps no less--alone, and pushed to the outside.  The chill there was terrible, really, but he didn't care.  If he could see, he could track her, perhaps... or if he had a dog...

  The owl.  If only he'd been with him still.

  Allen sighed, shaking his head.  Hopefully she'd at least stay to the trails.  And thus, he set off.  He'd kept it quiet from Gaddes... there wasn't any sense in having him come out here, as well.  Mucky creeks soiled the fine leather of his boots, but he didn't much care.  If she was out there...

  She didn't have a sword, likely.  What if bandits attacked her?  What if she got snagged by an alligator?

  The waterfall was in the back of his mind, forgotten.

It grew colder in the evening, of course. But Celena had fallen asleep by the river bank. Not necessarily feeling safe, but she was in no danger - except from the cold. No creature stirred in these waters so close to the cliff. She had looked at it and saw it was but 50 yards away . . . many steps for her Allen if she had had to judge the distance for him. But he was not there, no. The ground was cold, the cotton over her made a blanket of sorts but did not keep her very warm.

 She was dressed in wool, attire made for winter, but still she felt cold. She awoke when she heard approaching foot steps, but she did not move. She lay with her head on her arm, staring into the water as the light slowly left the skies. It would not take long, and she could not be bothered with her brother's own turmoil. She was of no use anymore. It was not selfish, what she had whirling through her mind - this was a favor. 

Allen was frustrated.  He sloshed deeper into the swamps, panic still fluttering in his heart.  "Celena, what were you thinking?"  He was cold, the numbing chill of the swamp water soaking into his clothes and his skin as well.  Like this, the cloak did nothing, but he didn't pull it off.  There were several times he almost tripped, almost crashed into the mucky water.

 He tracked his way back out of the swamp, plopping down, shivering violently just at the edge of it.  He didn't know what to do.  Calling out to her had done nothing, all his searching left her still unfound.  "D - Damn it," he muttered, teeth chattering, "why'd you have to go out like this?"

"The water is very cold." said a hoarse whisper from beside him.

The blonde started a bit, stumbling to his feet and turning on his heel towards the voice.  He shivered beneath the heavy cloak, one hand on his sword hilt.  "...It's _winter_..."

"The water's cold in winter," she whispered.

"...Celena, come here."  Allen held his hand out, the white glove soiled with mud and dirt.  

There was no indication that Celena had heard him. No rustle of her movement, no change in the direction of her voice. She was facing the river's edge, laying on the ground, knowing he was there and waiting for her. She had no mind to go to him. She could barely feel her own body, and hardly managed to speak.

 "I read - in a book . . . cold water can kill you." she added, "The river is about 1 or 2 centigrade. . . two minutes. Just two minutes. . ."

Allen tensed.  "What are you _talking_ about Celena?"

"Two minutes," she whispered, "and you die - from cold."

"Celena," Allen murmured, rather... frightened.  What was she talking about?  Why, all of a sudden...? "Celena, come on.  It's cold and I've been wandering around trying to find you all night.  Let's just get back inside."

The splash sounded like thunder to her ears, clashing against the currents like cymbals. The water pierced her, and under the biting water, she screamed - but it only lasted for a few seconds before she started shutting down, feeling herself dragged along the water. Her back at the misfortune to hit a rock, but she was so numb, she felt nothing of the impact. Just a hard jarring of her body hitting something solid and throwing her head forward. It pushed her on that boulder, the flow of water engulfing her and wrapping her it it's killing frost.

"_Celena!_"  Allen cursed, padding to the water's edge.  What could he do?  He couldn't do anything... he couldn't _see_ her, couldn't gauge the currents.  The blonde frowned, pulling off the cloak.  It would weight him down in the water... not that he'd be able to do much of anything anyway.  Already numb from the cold, Allen began to wade carefully into the river, keeping a tight hold on a root that stuck out.  "Celena, please," he whimpered softly, holding out his other hand.

Head bowed, her legs were the first to die. The current was steady upon her thin body, pressing her, shoving her up against the boulder. The cries from . . . someone nearby . . . they were so distorted, her eyes closed. She heard almost nothing above the din of the river, and even that was starting to grow quieter. All the warmth in her body left her, like it was crawling away to burrow deep insider her and seek shelter in the one remaining place it could  . . . but her middle would soon die too, causing her heart to stop.

  Her arms were lifeless now, and floated above the currents of their own volition, like driftwood. Not too long, now. Every part of her body was quickly deserting her . . .

Tears brimmed in his unseeing eyes.  He couldn't let go of the root or else both of them would get tugged away.  His legs were already faltering, numb in the cold water.  "Please," he whispered, his voice shaking... though from the cold of his own fear and sorrow, he couldn't tell.

  "Please, just... don't leave me, too..."

  Allen shuddered, grasping about in the water for any brush of her hand, a skirt, anything.  But she was too far away and he couldn't go out any further into the water.  Cursing his blindness, cursing his weakness... it was him that drove her to this, wasn't it?

  "Celena," he sobbed, his feet slipping in the muddy ground they stood on, almost losing his hold on the root in his hand, "Please don't do this..."

Celena finally lost to the darkness, her body slipping underneath the water. She was pushed off the boulder, unaware to her that her body touched the desperate and outstretched hand of her brother. 

Feeling the brush of her waist, Allen snatched at the wet cloth and yanked her towards him.  She was always so frail, so thin, the added weight of the water hardly mattered to his numb limbs.  Shoving her onto the bank behind him, Allen drug himself out, feeling about frantically for the cloak.  He pulled her close, wrapping them both in the cloak.  

  He shivered, her cold body pulled against his.

  It took him a moment to realize that she... was too cold, too stiff.  Tears slipped over his cheeks, a sob slipping from his lips.  It was hard to tell if she was breathing at all.  His arms tensed around her and he hunched over, burying his face in her wet, cold hair.  Oh gods... 

  "Don't take her, too," he sobbed, holding her impossibly close, his body shivering from cold and sorrow that wormed it's way through his nerves.  

 "_Why_, Celena...?  _Why_ did you...?"

Riden had told his ship mates about Allen's panicked search for his sister, figuring that it was her he searched for since she hadn't shown up to dinner. Gaddes berated the smaller man only a little, for letting Allen and Celena go out side of the fort walls - by themselves, he pointed out. 

  "He left an hour ago, Gaddes. I didn't think anything of it! He was just looking for his sister!" defended Riden.

 "He's blind, in case you missed it. He might be good with a sword, but he's not invincible. Just - _shit_ - gather the crew . . . _just_ the crew and send them out with lanterns. Armed." was what Gaddes had ordered.

 The lights of the lanterns blinked in and out in the forest, floating in the dark like fireflies. The crew was split up into teams, dressed warmly to keep out the chill. Kio was quickly following the trail, and somehow got split up from Riden who was following the river instead. It was he who came across Allen.

 His short little legs ran to him as fast as he could go, sliding to a stop just next to his commander - who was bent over . . . no, not Celena!

"Boss! Boss!" he shook the man's shoulder, taking off his own cloak and throwing it around him. "What happened to Celena? What happened?"

Allen was shaking uncontrollably, hugging her tightly to him.  He was sobbing, crying, uncaring of the numbness that had quickly fingered its way through his body.  He found no shame in it, sobbing over her still body, whispering brokenly for her to wake.  He kept asking it... why?  Why her?  Why his family?  Why did everyone eventually leave him?

 It was his fault... he kept apologizing, softly to her, but she couldn't hear it, could she?

 "No... please, no..."

Riden was panicked, but he had to help his commander. The sweet little lady couldn't be dead, she couldn't! The knight, his commander, couldn't be crying over her dead body yet - she was too young.  The events of that day might have been too much but . . . he looked toward the river, feeling the freezing wind and only assumed she fell in some how. Hypothermia. A couple minutes in that water could have killed her. But Allen might have gotten her out in time. There was no way to tell. Not unless he looked at Celena himself.

 The little soldier took control, which was very unlike him. But if there was any chance - any at all. . . 

 "Boss, let me look at her!" he said, trying to pry away Allen's arm, to hear her breathe or her heart beat. To save her life, if he could - since Allen was not helping her by sobbing.

Numbed limbs proved to be no trouble in prying away, though an anguished little sob slipped from his lips.  She was being taken away again, wasn't she?  All because of him.  All because he couldn't save her, because he'd hurt her.  Allen clutched his arms to his chest, narrow shoulders shuddering beneath the cloak.  It was a miracle he, himself, wasn't ill or worse.  Evidence of his trek through the swamp still lingered, though most of it had been washed away by the rippling currents of the river.

Riden took Celena in his arms, quickly looking over her. He put his ear to her nose and mouth - but couldn't hear anything. Cursing, he ripped at her sopping woolen dress, opening her front and trying hard not to be embarrassed by her cold bosom. He pressed his ear to her chest, hard, listening - hoping.

  She wasn't drowned, so there was no water in her lungs. She was just so cold . . . it was hard to tell if her heart still drummed within her breast. He closed his eyes, trying to still his own beating heart to be able to hear passed the blood rushing in his ears. . . 

  It was faint. But it was there.

  "She's alive!" Riden announced, quickly stripping her of her clothes until she was naked. He snatched the coat from Allen's shoulder's that he'd given him, thinking that he'll apologize for it later, and wrapped her naked body in the dry cloak.

Grief scrambled Allen's brain and refused to admit Riden's words into the mess of thoughts that swirled there.  Allen didn't seem to hear the other's words, didn't seem to notice the coat drawn away.

 He still shook, both from the cold wetness that soaked through his clothes to his skin as well as the emotional despair that rained down upon him mercilessly.  It was his fault she'd slipped into the river.  It was his fault, all of it... he'd hurt her too deeply, he'd caused her too much pain.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.  Fingers covered in gloves that did nothing but hold the cold water against his skin curled stiffly in the flimsy, soaking shirt he wore, his chest wracked with hard sobs.

"Boss!" yelled Riden, trying to pick up the girl. His specialty was bombing and sabotage - traps, tunnels. He had no strength in his arms to carry a full grown girl. He fell each time he tried to lift her, grunting and straining and accidentally letting her drop once as he slipped on the muddy ground. "Boss, I can't lift her. We need to get her back to the fort!" He looked over to Allen, who did not seem to be paying attention to anything he was saying - who couldn't see him struggling. 

Working quickly, he had to leave her back on the ground so that he can shake Allen's shoulder and literally shove him to her cold body. 

"Pick her up!" he cried desperately, "Do it! Save her!"

But Allen's limbs had long since gone numb and he could hardly stand himself, partially because of the cold, and then because of the shaking that wracked his lithe frame at the grief he endured.  If she died, it would be his fault.  If she died... he didn't know what he'd do.

 The blonde bowed his fore head against her cloaked shoulder, unseeing eyes closed as his tears tracked warm dampness over his cheeks.

"Kio!" Riden called out, "Kio! Over here!" He looked around for the big man - he was the biggest of all of them, the strongest - just not the most graceful. Kio came bounding through the undergrowth, breaking vines and pushing back the brush with every footstep. He carried the lantern, and as soon as the three of them came into view, he ran to them. Shoving the lantern into Riden's hand, he took the girl in his arms as if she weighed nothing.

 Riden grabbed Allen's cane which had been dropped on the ground, and pulled hard on the knight's arm. Kio was already running back to the castle with the girl in tow.

Allen stumbled to his feet, though could hardly hold his stance.  The only way he made it back was with Riden's continuous aid.  He kept blaming himself, over and over and over.

 He looked an utter mess.  Mud and swampy water from his earlier escapade matted in the long blonde locks, the folds of the fine cloak, smeared against his shirt and gloves.  He was shaking horribly, his legs giving out from under him over and over, the expensive leather boots slipping in their wetness on the ground.  Utterly grieved, he was painfully opposite the man he had been that morning.  Pride and shame were pushed aside, his vanity unheeded for now.

 All his fault...

The soldiers were called back to the fort by bell tolls in the castle towers. When they heard what happened to the young girl they'd grown so fond of over the time she'd spent there, all of them were begrieved and worried. Kio doted as much as he was allowed to before Gaddes took over and ordered blankets to be brought. But he needed Allen to bring her back to a normal temperature.

 As the crew members covered Celena in blankets - tactfully averting their eyes since she was very much naked beneath them - Gaddes went and found Allen. He took the man by the shoulders firmly. 

 "You listen to me," he seethed, angry at him sitting there, feeling guilty. "You need to be in there with her. You have to warm her up or she won't survive. You know how to treat hypothermia - and you're her brother. You need to do it."

Allen turned his head towards his friend, still shaking from cold even after he'd been shoved into dry clothes.  He was tired and cold and guilty, but somehow hearing Gaddes say it so straight out, so... angrily--he'd mope over that later--made him nod in the slightest.  He couldn't stand very well, he'd likely fall ill himself sooner or later, though nothing as severe as hypothermia, likely.

 How could he warm her when he, himself, was so cold?  His flesh was chilled, goose bumps raising on the pale flesh.  But he didn't argue, if only to keep Gaddes from betting so irate at him.  He couldn't remember when the brunette had ever been so.

"Come on," Gaddes said, taking the man roughly into Celena's room where she was being doted on by most of the men. "Out! Everyone, get out!"

 The soldiers jumped at his tone, but shuffled out quickly none the less, until Riden who took up the rear closed the door behind him. Gaddes started by helping Allen out of his clothes. "I don't care if you feel guilty - I don't care what you think. I know you won't let her die. I won't let you give up on her."

Allen shook even more as he was nudged to the bed, naked, the chill air biting against his flesh.  What did he expect him to do?  He felt no warmth in him.  If he could only see her...

 The blonde pulled his cold sister to him, not knowing what else to do.  It hadn't helped before, either... but it was all he could think of.

Gaddes piled on the thick blankets, until it was a small hill of wool that covered the siblings. Out of frustration, he sighed, kneeling down to give his sightless friend one last touch of reassurance.

 "Just stay there for a while. You'll both warm each other this way. You need it too, Allen. You know that. Just don't let her go."

He wouldn't.  Allen didn't say anything, holding her to him, unable to do much else.  It wouldn't be good for him to rest, probably, to sleep... but he felt so weary, so exhausted.  Head resting against the pillows, Allen was silent, unseeing, shaking.

The passage of time went unheeded in such darkness. Gaddes had left them alone, feeling it was their time and not appropriate to impede. It seemed like hours went by, before Celena took a shuddering, shallow breath. It wheezed horribly, and she began to shake violently in Allen's arm. While at one moment there was stillness, the next her body was wracked with trembles and she coughed, unable to breathe.

Allen had slipped into an unwanted sleep, shivers still running through his body.  But even still, he lay close to her, his arms around her.  His flesh was warm, hot even, fair cheeks flushed with a bit of what they would later out figure out was a fever.  He was silent, but for the soft breathing beside her.


	12. Long Lost Dream of Happiness

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Long Lost Dream of Happiness**

The morning came, and it was Gaddes and Riden who padded inside to tend to them, already prepared with medicinal herb tea and fever cloths. A callused hand gently touched Allen's head, feeling the fever. Riden worked at ringing the cloths out in the basin.

 "They both have really bad fevers." concluded Gaddes, after he reached over to Celena and felt her forehead as well. "Gods," he said under his breath, "we're lucky we didn't lose her to the shock."

 "Is the boss awake?" whispered Riden, bringing over the basin.

Barely.  Faintly awake, though a bit out of it thanks to the fever.  Throughout the night, he'd faded in and out of consciousness, never once letting go of his precious sister.  The blonde's smooth body was covered in a layer, a soft sheen of sweat from the fever, as well as bits of swampy water that had soaked through his clothing and left distinctly dirty spots marring the pale flesh lightly flushed.

Gaddes wiped the cold cloth across Allen's face, watching as the man's eyes blinked a few times before closing again. The darkness didn't help, the soldier was sure. There would be no light to tell Allen the time of day, soft and gray as it filtered through the window of the little room. He left the cold cloth on the man's forehead, proceeding to do the same to Celena next to him.

  "He's going in and out. They might catch pneumonia if we're not careful." He turned his voice away from Allen, looking at Riden, "I'll stay with them for a while. We'll need the guys to switch off to take care of them."

 "Right, boss." said Riden, leaving the first mate to do his job. Gaddes turned back to Allen, talking to him softly.

 "Allen, can you hear me?"

Allen's response was a soft, tired groan, but he turned his head slightly towards Gaddes.

"Okay." he breathed softly, stroking the knight's hair. He needed his touch and voice to assure Allen that he was there. "You're gonna be okay now, Allen. Celena's alive. You saved her."

Allen didn't say anything, but a small shiver crawled up his spine.  It was sad to see him--to see both of them--that way, feverish, too hot to be healthy.

"There's some medicine here. The healer came yesterday. Can you sit up a little so you can drink this tea?" His voice was forced, trying to be soothing when he was so worried over them both. His voice shook only slightly, trying very hard to be strong for his friend.

Allen just tucked his head against the pillows miserably, tightening his hold on his sister slightly.

"Okay, okay." Gaddes said, "Just relax for now. You can take the medicine later." The look on Allen's face was heart breaking. He'd been so afraid for the girl, and now he clung to her. And Gaddes could understand why. The girl's wheezing was horrible, she was barely breathing . . . her breaths were shallow and broken.

  Suddenly she coughed, her whole body going into spasms. It was bad. A deep, throaty cough that came from deep in her lungs. The coughing didn't stop, and only got harsher, louder, deeper - blood coming up to her lips.

Allen pulled her closer, if that was possible, his head bowed against her shaking shoulder.  He couldn't do more than he was already doing, already beginning to slip back into an unwelcome unconsciousness.

Gaddes had to pull her away from Allen as she kept coughing. The sound was frightening, as if the girl's lungs were about to be coughed up. Crimson coated her lips, and Gaddes pry her from Allen completely in order to be able to wipe her lips and clean her face with the cold cloth. The healer was just settling in, and already there was need for him . . . not a moment too soon.

  It was Riden's watch when the healer was able to look over them both, making sure they were both comfortable. There was not much else he could do for them that Gaddes hadn't already thought of. All he had to offer were some additional herbs to add to the tea. The cold cloth kept having to be replenished, and all of the crew members worried that their commander's fever wouldn't break.

  Meanwhile, Celena continued to be unable to breathe clearly. Her brother floated in and out of consciousness, but she did not wake. For a full day, they were bedridden like that. The healer kept trying to coax Allen to swallow the tea, but he could not move. He hadn't eaten. Late that night, after the soldiers of the fort were ordered to go to bed, the members of the Crusade filed along to Allen and Celena's bed side.

  "Allen," said the healer to the knight, being a gentle older man that he was. He was like a doting father, with a soft deep voice that sounded as if it had soothed away many children's nightmares. "Allen, can ye hear me now?" It was very late at night, all of the soldiers in the room keeping as quiet as they could.

Allen shifted slightly, turning his head away a little.  In his fever, he'd had dreams he couldn't remember and it was hard to tell if he was awake or not.  Fair skin was flushed with the fever, breathing soft, though a little shallower than it had been earlier.

"This man is blind," said the healer to Gaddes, having to speak over his shoulder. His tone held astonishment, and worry.

"Ah, yeah..."  Gaddes rubbed the back of his neck lightly, sighing.  "Yeah, he's been that way for awhile.  Bad things just keep happening to those two."  Bad luck seemed to follow the pair of them no matter where they went.

"I see," said Melzin the healer, looking back to Allen's fluttering eyes - he'd noted that they would open and not wince to the light in the room. So this was the blind Knight of Caeli he had heard about? Who would have thought the he, Melzin the humble healer, would be able to serve under such an honorable and skilled young man?

 He leaned in close to Allen's ear, his fatherly tone as soothing as a warm blanket. "I'm going to need you to sit up, Allen. You need to take this medicine. Do you understand?"

Gaddes slipped over to Allen's side, sitting on the edge of the bed when the blonde made no move to sit up.  For the moment, he disentangled Celena and her brother and helped the knight sit up, resting his back against Gaddes' chest. 

 "Allen," he murmured, still aware of the other soldier's eyes upon them, upon their commander.  They were all worried for him and Celena.  They'd seen him through other hardships, but many of those were emotional scars.  This... illness was another thing.  "Allen, you have to take it.  You have to get better for Celena."

The healer held the cup of tea to Allen's pale lips, paying no heed to how close Gaddes and Allen seemed. He would have to do this with the girl too, although it might be a forced administering with her. His weathered hands went to the back of Allen's neck, firm but gentle, and tilted his head back ever so slightly, trying to make him drink the medicine.

 "Come on, damn it." said Melzin under his breath. "Drink it."

Gaddes kept close, sighing in relief as Allen slowly took the medicine.  Once or twice he got too much and coughed, his breath almost ragged with it, lithe frame shaking.  But he did take the medicine and for that, Gaddes and the others were very thankful.

Melzin nodded in approval, letting Gaddes hold Allen there as the tea worked its way through his system. He nodded over to Celena, moving around the bed to her side, carrying the half finished cup of medicinal tea. 

 "The girl, now." said Melzin.

When he'd seen Allen slip back into unconsciousness, Gaddes sighed, lying their commander back down.  Careful to keep the blankets about Celena so she'd have a bit of modesty, Gaddes did the same with her, holding her up gently, carefully.

Celena coughed, and when it subsided, Melzin held the cup to her lips and poured some of the medicine down her throat, rubbing at her esophagus to work it down and make her swallow. It made her cough it up, and only increased her coughing. Her body wracked with coughing, her feverish eyes flew open, only to be screwed shut in the pain she felt in her chest.

 "Hold her," said Melzin, touching the girl's arm gently - reassuring. 

Gaddes did as he was bidden, silent.  He was the sibling's protector.  He'd be there when they needed it, he'd willingly offer guidance to either of them if they asked it.

If they survived . . . 

 Celena's coughing finally ceased, just long enough for Melzin to order her to be moved into her own bed. "We need to break their fevers. Is there ice on the river yet?"

Gaddes sent Riden to go check--he was the lankiest and one of the better sprinters, refusing to lead the siblings' sides.  He gathered Celena up, keeping a blanket around her, turning and striding out, appointing one of the other members of the Crusade to stay on watch over Allen while he was gone.  

 It was almost like Gaddes was afraid the second either went unwatched, they'd slip away.

Riden had run as fast as he could, lantern in hand, heavy cloak fluttering. He carried a chisel and a leather bag for any ice he might have been able to find. It had snowed the night before, so his short legs kept sinking into the new layer of snow and frost with every step. He practically skidded to a halt, at the point on the river bend that was nearest the fort. Ice had thankfully formed along the surface of the river - along the sides. It was thick with it.

 There was enough to fill the leather bag, and Riden hurried back before the various chunks could melt. The blocks of the ice were broken and split into two sacks for the sibling's flushed foreheads. 

Riden limped over to Allen's side after the ice pack had been placed.

 "What happened to you?" asked Kio, watching Riden limp. Riden turned his head away, embarrassed.

 "Ah, I tripped on the way back here. I'm worried for the boss and his sis too, you know?" he defended. "I just hope they get better."

 "Yeah," said the warm hearted Kio, looking down at his unconscious commander with a frown. "The boss'll pull through. He's strong. But his sis is such a tiny little lady." He looked to Riden again, and stopped. The little guy had tears in his eyes, and he was sniffling loudly.

 "Aw, Kio. Don't say that. The little lady's too nice to . . . she can't die." Kio patted his little friend's back, taking a seat by Allen's bedside, and continuing his duty to watch over him.

Allen was silent, cheek resting against the soft pillow, sweat matted hair splayed about him.  It was odd to see him in such disarray when he rarely let himself be seen so.  The lithe man shifted slightly, groaning a little as his troubled mind was assaulted by yet another fevered dream he couldn't wake from.

 Gaddes lay Celena gently on her bed, tucking her in and making sure she had enough blankets.  The ice was settled on her forehead, and Gaddes sighed, settling back.  "I can't help but ask when it'll end," he muttered to no one in particular.  These two didn't deserve the pain they'd been drug through time and time again.

The healer was moving back and forth, one room to the next. He had sent a soldier down to the apothecary which he'd just stocked when he arrived, to replenish the herbs. Mint and chamomile permeated the rooms they occupied. The air was thick with the potent smell of camphor and eucalyptus to ease the sibling's breathing.

  More ice needed to be gathered from the river, and Riden was always the one to fetch it. A week and a half went by, with both Allen and Celena going in and out of consciousness. Their fevers came and went, until finally Melzin was able to stabilize their temperature. Celena was still wheezing horribly, even with the soothing incense that filled her room.

Allen wasn't wheezing per say, but his breath was shallow and ragged.  When the fever broke, he still strayed just out of unconsciousness, weak, hardly able to speak or move.  He'd get cold a lot, the covers pulled close about him.  And he ached, just lying there.  Sometimes, seemingly randomly, he'd be a bit alert, some remnants of his former self shining through, but it would fade with a bout of coughing and once more he'd fade.

Celena didn't dream, didn't think when she was unconscious. When she opened her eyes, finding they were gummed together and struggling to have a look around, she would close them again and open them a few days later. One moment it was morning, the next it seemed like the middle of the night. Days went by without her knowing, and those brief moment that she was able to think and be aware - she didn't want to be, and thankfully went back to sleep.

  Two weeks since the two were brought out of the frozen river, the snow fell silently outside in the night. The parade grounds were constantly being shoveled by disgruntled soldiers. Melzin had gone though most of his camphor and had just a little eucalyptus left. He poured some tea for Allen, who seemed to be doing much better than his younger sister.

 "Have you been able to eat, Allen?" he asked gently, moving to the bed and touching the young man's arm.

Gaddes, who was there with him at the moment, answered when the blonde didn't seem inclined to.  He didn't like medics, Gaddes knew that well enough.  "Nothing particularly solid, and even that sometimes he has a hard time keeping down.  It's no wonder why he's shaky and feels weak."

The healer nodded. "Of course - but two weeks bein' in the same bed. The poor lad." He sat beside Allen, touching his forehead. "Tell me what it is you need, laddy."

"How is she?" he murmured dryly, his voice soft.  Every day, the same question if he could manage it.  It was all he asked about, really.  His strength was waning, he knew, but she had to get better, she _had_ to.

Melzin pursed his lips, his mouth turning into a frown. Being as comforting as he could, he settled the blankets around Allen, using a wet cloth to wipe away the sweat on his brow. "Lad," he said softly, "She's sleepin' right now. She's got a wee bit of a cough, but nothing the camphor won't help. You just rest now. Eat something when you get the chance, mm?"

 Melzin looked over his shoulder to Gaddes, "Bring him some light biscuits for him to nibble, and we'll see if he can hold it down."

Gaddes nodded.  He hesitated for a moment, afraid to leave Allens' side if it wasn't to go to Celena's, but he turned, sliding out.  

  "Tell me honestly what you think about her condition."  Allen's voice was soft, but his tone... he demanded it.  He was in the dark--literally--enough as it was... he had a right to know.

"Like I said - she's got a cough, but nothing the incense won't help her with. Now you drink this tea here. It's got mint and chamomile. It'll warm ye up nice and comfy." Melzin said.

Allen wasn't sure he was getting the full story, but he didn't bother to argue that.  He'd find out sooner or later.

 But determination shone through.  This young man, who had endured several hardships, had a strong determination.  And while his hands shook, he ground his teeth together, jaw tensing until he forced them to stop doing so, taking the cup of tea in hand.  Damn it... he'd win over this, too, if only for Celena.  A little later, Gaddes returned, not at all surprised, really, to see Allen forcing himself to do such things.  A little bit of a grin lingered on his lips.

 "Stubborn bastard," he murmured softly, shaking his head.

But something happened that none of the men expected. Heavy wheezing, strangled breathing came from the door. Celena had crawled - _crawled_ - from her room across the hall, her nightgown dragging around her. She gripped the doorframe, coughing and hacking - coughs so dangerously deep and throaty - as she tried to stand, tried to pull herself up but to no avail. 

 "Young lady!" exclaimed the Melzin, rushing to her side and settling her against him, "My goodness, lassy. What in the world are ye thinkin' ?"

Gaddes blinked, glancing over worriedly.  "Both of you are stubborn..."  The soldier stalked over, scooped the girl up in his arms and plopped her on the bed next to Allen.  "There.  That's what you wanted, right, Celena?"

 Allen turned his head slightly towards her, resting a hand on her upper arm lightly.  "Celena... don't stress yourself..."

More coughing came the girl's poor lungs, and Melzin wiped away the blood that came up before letting Gaddes know he'd be in his apothecary, finding more soothing herbs for the siblings, and some other soldiers that had fallen ill with colds. Celena swallowed, weakly scooting next to her brother. Her breath was so shallow, it was painful to hear, liquid moving in her lungs with every breath.

 "You . . . pulled me out . . . of the river. . ." she wheezed, her head lolling on it's side to look at Allen's empty eyes. 

"You fell in..."  

Gaddes quietly excused himself outside the door, leaning against the wall, sighing softly.

 "Intentionally.  Were you _trying_ to kill yourself?"

"What - does it matter?" she managed, coughing again. Talking hurt, breathing hurt. Her back hurt where it had hit the boulder, remembering how the currents rushed her along like driftwood. 

Allen stared at her sightlessly, in a state of shock at her words.  What could he say?  

"I drove you to it, I'm sorry..."

"I should have died," she wept quietly, "why didn't . . . you let me?"

"What are you saying?"  Allen's voice betrayed his disbelief, his shock.

"I thought - I had something . . . with you. But I didn't," she scooted up to him to touch him, her night gown entangling around her skinny legs, "Allen . . . saying that I love you . . . doesn't mean anything. Does it?"

"Why do you think such silly things, Celena?  When have I ever said that I did not?"  Allen was hurt... but he blamed her confusion on himself.  He'd been stupid, inconsiderate.  

"Silly things?" she tried, gripping her brother as another cough overwhelmed her. Blood splattered onto his shoulder accidentally, marring his pallid skin and she lifted a shaking hand to wipe it away. "I was destroyed . . . the moment the highwayman took me and _raped_ me."

"And did I push you away then?  I have told you Celena, what I think of you.  Those words were spoken after that incident, I don't see why you cling to these thoughts."

"I am not so lucky . . . in my resolve to be able . . . to execute my enemies." she wheezed angrily.

"I had taken care of him for you," Allen murmured softly, shaking his head.  "Don't get angry with me, Celena.  I just can't see where you're getting these ideas.  Why you felt the need to kill yourself."  Allen grasped her shoulders after a moment of fumbling.  "Whether or not you were raped, Celena, you still have your life.  Isn't that enough?"

She couldn't cry, but only moaned in grieve and anguish - as it fell on her again. Her empty shell just filled with shame and regret. He didn't understand, she thought. How could he _not_? 

"What is this life," she was barely able to speak, "if I am shamed and broken?"

"It is still a life.  You speak of love, but is it not so, if you would not listen to my words, the sincerity of them, and think of the pain you would leave behind?"

Her head hurt, her back hurt, and her mind reeled with what he said. He would be hurt if she was gone? How can that possibly be, if he did not want her - he obviously did not need her, for he had gone to his old lover's arms for consolation, and where she was left thinking he had loved her - only to turn her away in his time of great need. She had been so confused, so confused.

  Remembering the cold, remembering the pain of the water as they were like daggers biting into her flesh. She had been so close - so close to a release, and her brother would not have had to watch her sink to the bottom of the frozen water, would not have to bear the burden that she is anymore.

"I . . . I thought I was doing you a favor," she finally said.

Allen didn't know what to say.  The sting in his heart, the stab hurt as much, if not more, than any physical wound he could think of and he could only let his hands drop from her shoulders and turn away.  

 A favor.  How many times had he stressed how important she was to him?  How many times had he stated that he would shame himself for her?  He called her an angel, and yet... she still thought he didn't want her?  He was at a loss.  No other woman had he ever had _this_ many problems with.

"The world is too cruel to us," breathed Celena sadly, not caring if he turned away from her. She managed to worm her arms around his, pulling his arm to her breast and hugging it to her like a stuffed child's toy.

"We don't lessen the burden.  It isn't the world that is cruel to us, Celena, it is ourselves."

"You didn't blind yourself," she argued, pressing her flushed forehead to his bicep. 

"And neither did the world.  There are always obstacles.  I let it control my life for a long while, and then I broke free of it.  It is ourselves that do more damage than the world outside."

A brief coughing fit overtook Celena once more, and she used the sheets to wipe the blood from her pink lips. "Can . . . can we try to be happy? Is it possible?"

"Anything is."  Allen shrugged slightly. 

And Celena nodded as best as she could against his arm. 


	13. Snow and Ebony

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Snow and Ebony**

 There was a day when it finally stopped snowing, and the sun shone little through the break in the clouds before casting nothing but gray light onto the stone Fort Castelo. In between all the coughing of the soldiers, and the wheezing, and the aching, as in one form or another all of them got a touch of something, Celena still recovered in a bed. Even Gaddes was heard sniffling into a handkerchief once or twice, but that was the main brunt of it.

 The girl was soon alone in the bed, Allen having recovered before her. Her lungs felt weak, breathing was still shallow and stiff. But at the very least she could eat - occasionally - and there was no more sign of fever. Melzin would look over her, listen to her breathing by pressing his ear to her back as she slumped forward. He still prescribed the eucalyptus incense and herbal tea. 

 To Celena, it seemed like her lungs were heavy and still frozen from the water. The wheeze in her voice lightened a bit, but she could not stand and walk around without getting winded. Therefore, she had been ordered to stay in bed.

Allen wasn't perfectly fine, he still had a bit of trouble keeping solid things down, but he'd been able to move about again and more often.  Now that he'd gotten his soldiers in line, he'd recovered from yet another trying time, the blonde started up what he'd done when he first got to the fort all those years ago.

 "We're going thief hunting," he proclaimed, slightly grinning over towards Gaddes.

Gaddes looked at his captain, wry smile playing across his lips and he lifted whiskered chin, "To what do we owe the occasion?" he asked, delighted in finally going out and trapping more bandits.

 Oruto stood quietly in the corner as Gaddes was going over some trade routes on a map, "I hear some highwaymen were causing some trouble not too far from here. Poaching."

 "Poaching?" asked Riden with a phenomenally confused look on his face. "We're goin' after stupid poachers? It like 6 feet of snow out there! Let the poachers do their poaching! I'm not gonna freeze my bony ass off for that!"

"Well then, I guess I'll be heading out on my own, since the lot of you are too cowardly to face a bit of cold."  Allen shrugged nonchalantly, though his tone was teasing.  His cloak was wrapped around his shoulders tightly, insulating him.  He didn't have much fat at all to insulate him...

 On top of the fact that there were highwaymen about, Allen was bored as hell in there with nothing to do.

"Alright, you scabbers dogs," yelled Gaddes to his crew, who all jumped from where they'd been lounging on the floor or hay bales in the common room, "Everyone put on something nice and warm to wear. You heard the boss. Let's get us some poachers!" The crew, of course, gave their usual grunt in reply, saluting before running from the common room to gather their weapons and winter wear.

  Gaddes stepped up to Allen after Pyle scurried out behind Katz. He put a hand on the man's shoulder, "You sure you're okay for this, Allen? You still look a bit pale . . ."

Allen turned his head towards him unseeingly, nodding slightly.  "I'll be fine.  I've always been pale, Gaddes."  The blonde managed a bit of a grin, shaking his head slightly.  

"Alright," he said, clapping the knight on the back, "We've got a mission then, so let's get to it. Captain." he added with cheek.

Allen smirked a little, inclining his head slightly.  No uniform for a trek out into the swamp, no matter how snowy it was.  It wasn't nearly as warm as one might have thought it would be.  He was dressed warmly enough, leather pants, his usual foppish, lightweight shirts set aside for something a bit heavier, though still remarkably fashionable, a sash at his waist beneath the coat and cloak he wore.

The men followed their captain and his first mate down the snowy trails, boots crunching under the snow, sword hilts dangling and clanking - and occasionally Riden would complain about the whether, at which point Kio would give him a dirty look. It was midday, but the overcast was thick and made everything sort of grayscale. Not that it bothered the boss, Riden supposed.

 "Boss, no offense, but do you have any idea where we're going?" asked the impatient Katz.

Allen paused, turning to face them, though he couldn't see them.  

"Is this all really that unexciting to all of you?  After being cooped up in the fort for so long, I'd expect you to get restless."

 Allen sure had been, but he'd also been confined to his bed and room for quite some time.

"Not unexciting," Katz insisted quickly, and the others looked at him, waiting for him to ask that impulsive thing that they'd all been dying to ask themselves, "But don't you think it'd be better if Gaddes took the lead . . .?"

Allen was silent for a long moment and then, unexpectedly, inclined his head.  "I do believe it would be better, actually.  I seem to forget I'm not as I once was.  The swamp's just so familiar to me that I forget I can't see it."

It seemed the whole crew had been holding their breaths, for they all let out a heavy sigh at the same time.

"Lead on then, Gaddes, mm?"  Allen arched a brow.  He'd lightened up a bit since they'd left the fort... being confined like that had been grating on him.

Gaddes nodded, "Right, boss. Come on, you scumbags." And he turned around to continue leading their small group. For the most part, the snow was sort of a slush on the trail, from the occasional traders that came through to find safe haven in the parade grounds of Fort Castelo. Some of the snow had melted from the sunshine they'd had in the morning . . . so it was cold, snowy, and muddy. Triple threat, thought Riden sarcastically.

They'd gone quite far, and it was no surprise when Riden spoke up again to complain.

 "Agh, flies." he groaned, waving them out of his face, "There's tons of them."

"...fan out and search for bodies."  Allen perked a little, arching a brow.  "It's unlikely, but it's still possible."  The knight frowned slightly, tipping his head to the side a little and sniffing the air.

The men dispersed quietly into different directions. Their usual pairings, of course. Gaddes stayed with Allen, smirking, "Wanna help me look?"

Allen nodded.  "Of course.  Though you'll be the one looking, of course."  Allen grinned a little and settled a hand on Gaddes' upper arm.  Now that they'd likely be leaving the paths, he'd need guidance.

"Right," Gaddes rolled his eyes and start down further off the path, leading his captain over knee deep snow covered ground and root beds around large old trees. There was no sound in the forests, Gaddes noted, no birds, no wind either - he thanked whatever gods might have been listening for that one. He was looking everywhere, but he saw no dead bodies. He would have been able to smell it before he came across a corpse. . . wouldn't he? Unless the snow covered too much and blocked it from his nose.

 Gaddes shook his head, looking around before admitting, "I don't see anything, boss."

"The snow.  They're under the snow, they have to be.  Flies don't buzz about this time of year like they were unless they've got a reason and decomposition is a good enough reason for them.  It's possible that it's just animals or some such thing."

 Allen frowned a little, turning and carefully heading back the way they came, then backtracking around to where the flies had been poking about lightly in the snow with his cane.

Gaddes followed him quickly, surprised that he turned around and walked back so quickly on his own. . . he just wasn't used to how nonchalant Allen had gotten with his handicap. He saw Allen poke the snow, before noticing something there around a tree.

 "There's something sticking out of the snow here." And he bent to brush the snow away from what he'd found.

Allen waited calmly, shuffling over beside him, sniffing the air softly as he crouched down beside him.  "What is it...?"

"It's an arrow," he exclaimed quietly, digging at the knee high snow around the arrow.

Allen frowned slightly, staying silent.  A body.  Perhaps it was an animals carcass, but if it was, why leave the body there?

"Ah, shit," Gaddes said, covering his nose as the stench of the corpse finally reached his nostrils, and he tried desperately to wave away the tainted air. Pinching his nose, he spoke again, "The poacher hath been poached."

Allen scrunched his nose, standing and nodding.  "But by whom?  Certainly not bandits. What does the arrow fletching look like?"

"Eagh," he said, putting his boot on the dead man's leather covered breast and yanking the arrow out. It had broken through the poacher's sternum, and there was a sickening crunch as the bone was moved. Gaddes examined the arrow's head. "Steel diamond shaped head, ebony shaft . . ."

Allen had his arm over his nose to keep the stench at bay a little, but besides that he simply stood there.  He pondered for a bit, a faint frown on his lips.  

"Steel diamond, that has to be high quality.  Bandits wouldn't have something like that--not that they'd waste it on a poacher if they did.  Ebony... ebony wood doesn't grow around here, does it?  I don't' recall ever seeing it... it'd be expensive to import, too.  To the villagers right outside the swamp wouldn't likely have it, either... nor would they be bothered to trek all the way out here to do so in this weather."

"Well, I may not know much," Gaddes started, moving away from the corpse to get away from the sickening smell - it was about to make him wretch all over the powdery snow. "But I think ebony is tropical . . . Never seen it grow in Asturia though. And the only other countries that border us are Fanlia and Basram."

"Fanalia.  What would they be doing out here?  Or Basram, even?"  

 Allen frowned a bit, brow furrowing as he, too, stepped away from the corpse.  Van knew the location of the fort... but no.  What would Van be doing here?  They weren't too horribly far from the borders either.  

"Boss, for all we know there could just be some guy using these arrows. We don't know for sure if it's Fanelia or Basram. And - it couldn't be that King Van has any interest invading, since Fanelia was just rebuilt not too long ago. . . never mind that they worship a god of war . . ." But even those words didn't seem to comforting to Gaddes' own ears.

Allen shook his head slightly.  He'd have to let Millerna know of this, of course.  It was his duty after all.  Coincidence or not...

 "I wonder if there are any other signs of someone's passing.  Though admittedly, it might have been ruined by our own, as well as the snow."

Gaddes took a quick look around in vain, just to prove to himself to see if it was true or if anything can be seen. "I don't see anything. Everything's covered by snow . . . hang on." He bent towards the body again, looking closely and automatically pinching his nose against the potent smell again.

"Hm?"  Allen arched a brow slightly, inclining his head in that direction, waiting for Gaddes.  he could still smell the scent of it where he was and he once more put his arm over his nose, sighing a little.

"There's some sort of black residue here, on the guy's head. Agh, you're lucky, boss. This guy's as ugly as the rear end of a goat." 

"Black residue... like a burn or some such thing?"  Allen pursed his lips thoughtfully, shaking his head slightly, thinking back to what other things might leave such a residue.

Gaddes touched the spot of black, coating a gloved fingertip with it before moving away from the body to sniff it properly. "Sulfur." and he held it to Allen's nose for the nobleman to smell it for himself.

Allenfrowned a little nore, nodding slightly.  "Sulfur, indeed..."

 The blonde was silent for a moment, then blinked.  "Basram had some sort of weaponry that used sulfur-based ammunition, right?  But why arrows, as well...?"

"That's a hell of a good question, boss." Gaddes replied, wiping the residue on his pant leg. "You're the captain, captain. What's your next course of action? How can we be sure it's Basram and not just some crazy son of a bitch with small explosives and expensive arrows?"

"We can't.  And it's not my decision alone to make.  Gather up the others, would you?  And recall where the body is, if you could.  We might need the location later."  _Why would they be crawling across the borders into Asturian lands without giving any notification... killing a poacher with a combination of old and new technology somehow involved, and never mentioning it to anyone?_

"Aye, capt'n." Gaddes grinned, and quickly went off trudging through the deep snow to search for his comrades. 

 A few minutes later, he came back with Pyle and Katz. 

"Did the others come back?" he asked of his commander.

"....No, not yet."  Allen frowned, lifting his head slightly.  He stood from where he'd crouched beside the body, the arm still braced against his nose.  Sulfur.  And a bit of it from what he could tell.  He wiped the mineral off his gloves, shaking his head slightly.  

"Well, what the hell?" Gaddes groaned, "We've got four men missing and a dead body."

 "Maybe Riden chickened out because of the cold." grinned Pyle, rubbing at his cold mole nose. "Went running back to the fort. He's such a little guy, you know?"

"I doubt it's that.  It's possible, but he's got Kio with him.  Listen, before we go any further, just in case something happens, the poacher's been killed.  The flies were there for a reason."  Allen motioned to where he'd moved away from, where the body still settled.  "Thanks to Gaddes, the arrow was noticed and there's sulfur on the man's head.  Sulfur, if you didn't know, is a key ingredient to those long-range weapons Basram developed.

  The arrow was... steel diamond, the shaft ebony, so Gaddes has told me... which leads to even more suspicion considering the fact that Asturia doesn't have ebony wood."

"Sacred serpents, boss," said the usually casual and egocentric Katz, only now he was genuinely surprised and feeling anxious, "Are you saying Basram . . . is _here_?"

"I'm not saying it for certain--I'm not certain about any of it at the moment--but it's likely to be considered.  But just like Gaddes said, how do we know it's not just someone who managed to get his hands on such weapons?  Though the mix of the ammunition is curious.  Why use arrows when those pistols of theirs are so much more effective?"

"Boss," quipped Gaddes again, thinking of something, "It could be that the guy didn't die from the arrow."

"It's possible... you know... thinking about the arrow, I automatically thought of Fanelia.  So what if they're trying to pin it on them?"

"Fanelia is known for their steel," admitted Gaddes. But suddenly there was a sickening thunk and he let out a clenched scream.

 "Shit!" said Katz, catching Gaddes before he fell to the ground and quickly dragging him behind a tree.

Allen tensed and moved quickly, grabbing Pyle's arm as he passed him and yanking him into the mess of swamp with him.  "Katz... what is it?  Where'd he get hit?"  Allen's heart hammered against his chest, the terror just never ended, did it?

"Ah," hissed Gaddes, pulling out the arrow that hit his leg squarely in the thigh, "I'm alright." he panted, "Just hit me . . . in the leg." He suppressed another strangled growl of pain, leaning up against the tree that Katz had quickly moved him behind.

 "Holy Jechia . . ." said Pyle, out of breath, pulling his commander safely behind another thick trunk of a tree.

"Well, I suppose this is what we get for trouncing around in the swamp at near-dark."  It had been his idea from the beginning, just to give them a bit of fresh air, out of the fort.  And Gaddes had gotten shot...

 "Oh, no," he murmured softly.  "No... it's no small wonder why Riden and the others haven't gotten back..."

"No, boss, they wouldn't kill him and the others, would they?" asked the kind hearted and usually lazy Pyle. A high pitched whistle of an arrow went passed Allen's ear. "Watch out!" he said out of impulse, pulling his captain down to the ground.

Allen started a little, frowning.  "They might, but they'd gain more ground on us if they used them to get whatever it is they want."

"They might be camped . . . near here," managed Gaddes, wincing from the immense sting and throb in his leg. "Gods, my leg's killing me . . ."

 "Take it easy," offered Katz, "We should get back to the fort."

 "No way! We need to find Riden and Kio! And Teo and Oruto! I won't leave 'em here to be killed!" cried Pyle, keeping a hold on Allen's shoulders - as if the knight would suddenly spring up and put himself into danger.

"We need to get Gaddes back, but it'll be difficult."  The unspoken reason was partially because of him and his inability to see.  Off the paths, he was a mess tromping through the swamps.  And going on the paths was out of the question.  "But we can't just... leave Riden and the others."

"Should we split up?" asked Katz. Gaddes laughed without humor.

"That seems like a horrible idea."

"Less in a group would offer less of a chance of getting seen.  But Gaddes can't make it back on his own.  And I'd be of no use aiding him back.  As much as I don't want to say it, we might be better off heading back and returning later.  I have a feeling they'll still be there, though I can't assure it."

"The fort's behind us," said Katz, looking around a tree. "That's also the direction the arrows came from."

"Then that's decided it for us, hasn't it?  We can't go back that way... or at least not the direct way we came from."

Allen fidgeted a bit, silent for a long moment before he spoke again.  "Look, all of you can move faster without me.  Even with Gaddes injured.  There's paths that break off of this one that'll lead you back to the fort.  They're hidden, Gaddes knows them.  They likely won't see you that way.  Go back, leave Gaddes there and bring more soldiers back with you.  Be as discreet as possible." 

They wouldn't like the idea, he knew.  They'd likely refuse.  But it was worth a shot.

Despite the pain Gaddes felt with the ebony arrow lodged in the meat of his leg, he felt a horrible black pit form in his stomach with the proposition Allen just gave them. The knight was right, of course. They immediately protested to the idea.

"Allen, this isn't worth doing something stupid. We can't just leave you behind – Agh, shit! Don't touch it!" The first mate solidly smacking away Katz prying hands, "Leave it in or I'll bleed more than I am. Not to mention hurt more. . ."

"Boss, Gaddes is right," said Pyle from beside his commander. "You know we can't just leave you here when you can't see." Well, tact wasn't really a strong point for many of his crew – not just innocent Riden.

"Be logical, alright?  Set aside your worry.  Look at this closely.  One life or four?  Four.  And I can stay hidden well enough.  Just be quick about it."  Allen trailed off for a moment, then frowned slightly.  "And that's not from me as Allen, that's from me as your commander."

The soldiers, although were about to argue again, simply bowed there heads and resigned themselves to frustrated harrumphs. They were very reluctant. One life or four. They loved their friends, their comrades in arms - but they couldn't leave their beloved commander. The order was given, and there was nothing they could do. With respect, in their hearts they had already agreed to what they were told to do.

 Pyle moaned pathetically, "Aw, boss . . ."

"Just _go_.  The more time you waste complaining about it leaves me, as well as the others, in more danger.  _Hurry_.  And Gaddes?  Say nothing of this to Celena if you see her.  Nothing.  I don't want her doing something drastic.  If she asks, then tell her I'm out walking or something."

"Right," Gaddes groaned at the pain as he stood up, leaning heavily against the tree. He panted, clenched his teeth, but still managed to have a sense of humor, "Walking . . . right into a tree."

"Oh, shut up, you."  Allen managed a little grin, waving him off and tugging the heavy cloak close.  "Just go on.  And Gaddes... stay back at the fort, alright?  I certainly hope I really didn't have to tell you that, but I will anyhow.  Gods know you're as stubborn as I am."

Gaddes managed a quick, breathy chuckle before Katz draped his arm over the other man's shoulders and pulled him out of there. They quickly made their way across the road and into the otherside of the trees.

 "Boss," said Pyle worriedly, "please don't get yourself killed."

"Just go," murmured Allen and he flashed a little grin.  "I've pulled through these stunts before.  I trust in my luck."

But Pyle said nothing more, pursing his lips, rubbing his mole-nose and running after Gaddes and Katz. There were more arrows shot, the sound of them hitting the trees or the snow and making a sharp sizzle sound as it slid to a halt on the ground. Some quick, short orders were given in the distance - men's voices, and not speaking Asturian.

 It was like an explosion of noise, the sound of a great tower falling but it only lasted a split second. It was enough to make the ears ring horribly. It echoed through the trees and made birds fly away, frightened.

Allen tensed, lifting his head.  Was that the fort?  It... couldn't be.  The blonde pressed close to the trees he'd huddled behind, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.  If he was going to die out here, he'd die with his sword in hand.

There were slow, careful footsteps in the snow. They moved quietly, snow softly crunching as it wrapped around their knees with every tentative step. There were three of them, quietly approaching. 

Allen tensed, silently drawing the sword with slow, steady movements from the sword at his side.  Crouching down, almost as if he was injured, bracing his back against the tree, the cloak drawn about him.  Thankfully, Gaddes had managed to bleed all over the place, the snow stained crimson beside him.  Eyes were closed, head tipped back against the tree, just listening and waiting.

The footsteps came closer, stopping momentarily for the men to signal orders silently. Two of them slowly moved around either side of the tree.

Allen was waiting, though just for what he didn't know.  The snow, the air was cold, nudging at him.  There were three, but only two were approaching.  One, then, might still have a bow.  Or at least have backup.

The men stopped at either side of the tree, one moving his hand ever so slightly around it, completely silent as they wore furs instead of leather that creaked. A sharp click indicated that he'd cocked his pistol - next to Allen's temple.

The blonde was still for a moment.  He knew he'd get one chance.  The other soldiers would likely catch him before he got any further, but at least he could take down one.  If only one.

 _I'm sorry, Celena, Gaddes... Riden all of you.  I don't think I'll make it back to the fort..._

 With a jerk of his arm, the sword lifted from the small bit of snow that had covered it and he jammed it back in the general direction the man was in.  Just hoping to hit flesh.  As he did so, he braced a booted foot against the tree trunk and shoved himself away, bringing the sword with him after the strike, the cloak and his hair billowing about him softly.

The man yelled out in pain as the sword slashed across his abdomen, giving him a nice open and bleeding gash across the stomach, but not too deep. He fell to the ground, his arms hugged around his middle, growling. The man who had stayed behind moved quickly now, while the other gave chase.

 He didn't have to chase very far, grabbing Allen's shoulder and pulling him roughly down to the snow. His boot landing on the fallen knight's chest, pinning him, and aiming his own pistol at Allen's head. 

Allen winced, sliding a little at the fall until the boot pressed against his chest.  The blonde growled a little, jerking away instinctively, in vain.  He was going to die here, wasn't he?  And to think, without even knowing why.

 Allen turned his cheek to the other man, silent.

 Guess my luck's run out... not that I really had much to begin with.  At least... I'll die a knight.  And this way... this way, they'll have enough time to get away.

The soldier with his boot pressed firmly on this fair haired man spoke to him, "Ihr name." He pressed his boot down further, putting the barrel of his pistol to Allen's forehead, "Ihr name!"

Allen pulled back slightly, gasping a little.  "A-Allen Schezar," he murmured without really thinking about it.  There was a burning in his chest that was distinctly uncomfortable... and painful... and not natural.

"Entspannen Sie sich, Fritz." said the other, a deeper voice than his younger companions. He must have been their commander. He had worked at helping his fallen soldier, binding the wound with what little fabric he could spare before kneeling close to the knight. "Allen Schezar. Ein netter Basramer Name. Ironisch, nein?"

Allen's eyes were open, though still sightless.  He narrowed them... he didn't know much of their language.  Damn it, if he knew their language well...

 "Verstehe Sie nicht," he murmured softly, wincing a little.  He knew a few phrases, a little of the basics... though nothing more than that.  Pleasantries, really.

The man laughed coldly, standing up. "The Asturian speaks enough to say he does not understand us. Ha! You name is Basramese, Allen Schezar. It amused me how ironic it was to come across you." He laughed again, watching Allen's gaze as it stared right through him. "Blind."

Allen swallowed a little, furrowing his brow.  How ironic, indeed.  "Tell me... do you have others?  Four other soldiers?"  The blonde did not reach for the sword that settled nearby.  They had won, he relented that fact.

"I thought it strange at first, not to mention surprising, herr Schezar," said the commander, his soldier still steadily keeping his boot upon Allen's pained chest, "that a blind man carry a sword. And use it well enough, all things considered. Who commands the Fort in the distance?"

Allen sighed painfully beneath the boot, frowning slightly.  "I do.  Or did until you captured me."  Despite his troubles, he was still a young man, hardly with the look of a soldier, what with the fine clothing he wore beneath the cloak.

 "Sir, I relent myself unto you."  Gloved fingers grasped the blade of the sword and he regretfully held it out to him, hilt first.  "I would simply prefer if you let me breathe a little easier."

 He may have given himself up, but he didn't give up the fort. His men still had a fight left in them, after all.

 "I am a Knight Caeli, sir.  I pride myself on my sword work... though it has done me nothing in this situation."

The commander laughed again, taking the sword and tossing it aside before grabbing Allen roughly by the collar and lifting up to his feet. Before he had time to do anything, Allen was shoved into the hold of the solider under sergeant's command, who quickly took his hands and bound them. 

 "What a prize. We've captured the commander of the fort. Gods smile down on us this day. Take him to the camp with the others. I'll take care of Müller." The one named Fritz nodded and began to lead Allen in front of him, pushing and shoving around tree branches and snow mounds.

Allen stumbled, his head bowed.  He didn't need his sight, after all.  And maybe this way he could affirm that Riden and the others were alive.  Or dead.  Or whatever.  Thankfully, he didn't make much a mess of himself as they reached the camp, though once or twice he tripped up.  His shoulder started to hurt again, along with the pain in his chest and the chill air clawed at his recently healed lungs.  

 Not that he'd completely recovered.  I'll be fine, he assured himself silently.


	14. Escape from Basram

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Escape from Basram**

A harsh shove to the ground was all the indication Allen had that they'd reached the camp. No sounds in the forests, hardly a crackle of a fire or the murmuring of men. Except, of course, his men, suddenly roused from their hopelessness as they were bound together in pairs.

 "Boss," hissed Riden harshly, quietly as he was nearest to where Allen fell, "Boss, are you alright?

Allen lifted his head a little, sighing.  "Thank whatever deities are watching over us... I figured you all would be alive, but I wasn't sure."  His voice was soft, a little raspy, but still him nonetheless.

 But he could feel the tickle in his chest as a cough built in his throat.

"Boss is still sick," whispered Oruto harshly, who was tied up with his back to Riden, "So quit talking to him."

"I'm _fine_," Allen whispered harshly, shaking his head a little.

 Ironic how things happened, wasn't it?  Almost as if on cue, the undeniable tickling grew worse until he was coughing, doubled over where he sat, narrow shoulders shaking beneath the heavy cloak.

 Great.  Just great.  That would convince them.

 The blonde grimaced weakly as he spit out blood that had gathered in his mouth, frowning a bit.

The guys all looked at each other, wanting to protest but - they knew their situation was critical. Riden and Oruto were already trying to work together to scoot as close to their captain as they could. The snow was literally freezing their asses off, and their legs were bound - it would have been amusing to watch, were the need to get to their captain not so dire.

 Kio and the dark skinned Teo were bound together as well, and seemed to get the idea. They needed to keep their captain warm, so they too started scooting around until the soldiers were on either side of Allen. "Just take it easy, boss," said Kio in his deep voice, very quietly.

 "Yeah, boss. We'll figure somethin' out."

"I'll be fine," he rasped quietly, though sitting in the snow like that wasn't helping him.  He smiled a little at their kindness, their worry.  It was comforting.  And four bodies that close helped, really.  His eyes were closed, head bowed.  Boy, he sure looked a sight, he was sure.  He just hoped the opposing soldiers hadn't seen his weakness, though he was rather sure they had.  

"They got Gaddes in the leg and I sent the others back to the fort to get him back, as well as to get reinforcements."  Yes.  He forced them to leave him there alone.

"These guys don't seem to speak Asturian . . . but we don't speak Basramese either." 

They kept quiet for a moment, before Teo cleared his throat.

 "I can speak a little." said Teo.

"Teo, that's good.  What little I remember from when I was younger is broken and just basics.  I don't know much of it and I struggle with what I do know."

"I heard them talking," said Teo quietly, trying to bend low to speak to his commander, but was having a hard time of it being bound across the chest with humongous Kio at his back. "Something about an attack. My guess is the fort."

"Most likely.  I heard a crash, I think it's already begun."  Allen shook his head slightly.  "I can only hope they managed to get there in time."

"This camp is huge," said Riden softly, looking around. "But it's so friggin' quiet you would never have guessed there were this many soldiers so close to Asturian borders."

"They were just waiting... the winter would be the perfect time to do it.  And they have the advantage of their technology, as well."

"The hand held cannons that they have, boss." Kio said, "I saw it. They put it against some guy's head and it went off. He died. He wasn't Basramese either. It was a local - like a thief or something."

"So they're just killing off the Austurian populace, then?"  Allen growled angrily, gritting his teeth.  He didn't care if they were thieves, if that man was a poacher... it was still on Austurian soil.

"Boss," said Oruto, able to bend a little lower as he was not so anchored to a tank like Teo was to Kio. "Why do you think they're here? To attack the fort and kill thieves on our territory?"

"I don't know, honestly.  When I first thought of it, I figured it would be for us, since we're right on the border.  But now... I don't know."

"Fanelia's on our border too, in the north west. Basram on the east border. What the hell are they thinking," said Kio, getting frustrated with his leather bonds, "they can't be that bitter about losing to their stupidity in the Great War."

"...and they're moving in to take over.  Damn it... and I can't alert Millerna here."

"How long are they gonna keep us here," Riden whined, "We have to get back to the fort. They need to know about these guys - and the attack that might happen!"

"Likely we'll have to get ourselves out.  They seemed quite thrilled to have the commander of the fort in their hands."  Traces of bitterness again.  Ugh.

There was more rustling, as Riden tried to squirm and wriggle out of his bonds with Oruto - who had a look of annoyance on his face.

  "Quit squirming!" hissed Oruto, but Riden didn't stop. "Goddamn it cut it out!" And he stopped, but the ties on his front suddenly fell loose and Riden managed to scoot away from him. 

 "I think I'm getting the hang of this. Help me get my hands untied." Riden grinned to Oruto, who started looking indignant. They tried working at the ties, both of their hands behind their backs, but it was slow going and had little to no success. The ropes were knotted to tight and Oruto complained that he couldn't see what he was doing.

 "It's no use, Riden." said Teo, "Try working your hands out."

 "Yeah, let me just cut off my hands and I'll tell you how I'm doin' . . ." Riden replied sarcastically

Allen frowned a little, staying silent, listening.  It was his most acute sense now that he'd lost his sight.  His head was bowed, long hair pooling about him, stark against the dark cloth of his cloak.  He felt weak, but he didn't let it show, forcing himself to stay alert.

"Boss . . . hey, boss. You could do it. Right?" asked Riden, nudging the commander with his shoulder.

"Hm?  Allen arched a brow, lifting his head a little.  "Do what?"  He hadn't really been paying much attention to them... instead of calming himself and listening for approaching footsteps.

"Get these knots loose on my wrists," he said, turning around and putting his back against his captains, "You're the only other person who's not tied to someone and . . . you don't need to see the knots to do it, right?"

Allen pursed his lips, then nodded.  "Well, I can certainly try."  Allen reached out his bound hands a little, fingers outstretched.  They were right... he didn't need his eyes.  He didn't have to depend on them...

Riden felt the knight's slender gloved fingers work at his bonds, deftly moving over the knots and tugging. "I feel it coming loose . . . just a little more. . ."

Allen worked easily, biting down lightly on his bottom lip as he worked, brows furrowed slightly in concentration.  This, he could do.  He smirked a little when the felt the rope give way.  "There, is that it?"

"Yeah!" Riden said a little too loudly, and quickly shrank behind his taller captain - taller even sitting on the cold snowy ground. "... sorry."

"Mm, alright.  We can't risk getting the rest of us free.  Is there a way you can make it out of here?"

Riden looked around the camp, at the Basramese men huddled in their furs under camouflage tarps of white and grays. One guard was supposed to be keeping watch over them but he seemed more interested in keeping warm. The little Asturian soldier tried to make it look like he was tied to Allen when the Basram man looked up briefly from the huddle in his cloak.

 "I don't think so, boss," whispered Riden into Allen's ear. Oruto moved closer to be in front of Riden and Allen, so that it would obscure the guard's view of them. Kio and Teo stayed where they were, but Teo suddenly seemed intent on listening to what was going on way down the make-shift parade grounds of the Basram camp. Sounds of a marching troop . . .

 "Something's going on," he said.

"Damn it..."  Allen frowned, shaking his head a little.  "This can't be good.  If they attacked the fort..."  The blonde sighed heavily.  He could only hope that most of his soldiers, most everyone was safe.

 "Well, we've got you free and nothing to do with you.  Just make sure to keep your arms behind you.  And wrap some rope about your waist if you're going to pretend you're tied to me."

"R-Right, boss." affirmed Riden, working on getting the ropes that were on his wrist to be wrapped about his middle. Kio's back was to all the action, all the soldiers, as he faced the forests, his head working around to get a good look over his shoulder. While Teo, who faced and watched everything, sat wide eyed at the amount of Basram soldiers that emerged.

 "Holy Jechia," he breathed, listening to the commands the superior officers were giving the troops as they saluted, quickly joining the parade of men. 

"It's going to be an invasion.  They're going to take Palas!" he whispered harshly, unbeleiving.  The system there had been shattered with the death of the king and was very slowly being rebuilt.  They were left utterly open.

 "If only we could get a message to Fanelia."  Van would aid them.

"I - boss . . ." Riden whispered, "I could go . . ."

"Be careful.  Be _utterly_ careful.  You have to get word to the fort if it's not already fallen.  If it has, then head immediately to Palas and tell them that I sent you.  Tell Millerna everything that you've seen."

Riden gulped, suddenly overwhelmed with anxiety, but nodded all the same. "I'll do it, boss. I won't let you and the guys down." He watched for a good opportunity to take off at a run, looking behind him briefly into the forest, finding good places to hide just in case they decided to fire those frightening hand held cannons.

 "The guard's standing," said Oruto quietly, having seen Riden get ready. The little guy crouched low, bringing his legs up and anchoring his feet to the ground. "Go, . . . _go now_!" 

Pumping his legs, he dove off the embankment , rolling down a short snowy hill. The guard heard the scuffling of his boots on the snow and turned around, yelling before bringing up his 'cannon' and firing.

 It was that same split second, ear splitting _Bang!_, and the men all winced and ducked down when they heard it, sounding almost as loud as regular Basramese cannon fire.

Allen flinched, staring sightlessly ahead, shocked.  "Did he get out?  Did he get to the trees?"  If Riden got hit, they were doomed.  There wouldn't be anyone else who could get away that fast.

Oruto was bent protectively over his captain, not moving in case the guard tried to get one of them for letting their comrade escape. He whispered in that ragged voice of his, "He's okay. He made it."

"Good... good.  Hopefully he'll make it to Palas."  Allen frowned slightly, shaking his head.  He'd given himself over willingly, but that didn't mean he'd stay there complacently if he could help it.  He or his soldiers.

"Don't say that, boss," said Kio gently, crouched low and practically crushing the breath out of Teo who was struggling against the strain of the ropes.

Allen shook his head slightly.  "You're right.  He'll make it..."

 Of course, they'd have to sit there and wait.

***

Basramese soldiers marched in full swing now, hundreds of men in various troops, a select few holding hand cannons, as Teo described them. They all wore coats of fur, in grays and whites to blend in with the surrounding environment. Their numbers were scary, as they were so close to Allen's fort. They had large cannons too, which were being pulled by oxen, the wheels easily crunching through the snow, the oxen snorting in indignation at the heavy work they had to do.

 The soldiers passed them, and there were commanders among them barking orders in Basramese, ordering supplies to be moved, carried, to march better - things of that nature, or so Teo translated. The guard on them turned suddenly, having been given orders. Another soldier came over to aid him in the orders.

 "He says we have to come with them." says Teo, being grabbed by the arm and pulled up with Kio. The bonds around their chest and legs have been cut, so that can walk. Oruto was pulled up as well, after his legs were untied. The last one to be untied was Allen, the guard taking his time with him, like he was gloating.

 "Muß der Krüppel getragen werden?" said the solder scathingly in Allen's face, grinning.

Allen jerked away at the obvious insult, playing with him.  Ugh.  Krüppel likely meant cripple.  Or that's what Allen took it to mean. The knight managed to get himself to his feet, heavy cloak swishing about his ankles softly.  Again, that proud, strong, confident commander came back, his head held high.  He was still a knight.  He was still who he was.  

 Fine boots crunched the snow softly as he shifted a little, the snow sliding gracefully over the curves of his legs beneath the leather pants.  Leather provided warmth.  He was thankful he'd worn them.  

The soldier laughed but did nothing more than that, shoving Allen into Oruto, who stood in front of him now. Teo moved behind Allen and Kio took up the rear. The soldier yelled again.

 "He says march," said Teo quietly, hoping that between he and Oruto, they could guide their captain safely.

Allen stumbled a little, but didn't fall, steadying himself before he nudged Oruto to get him going.  He followed silently, though didn't let his pride waver.  He listened for the soft warnings from the men who walked with him of bumps, uneven spots, things he might trip over.  

It seemed like they were quite a distance away from the fort, and all the men hoped that Riden got there in time to warn them. The army was large, but it seemed to be mostly infantry - they were taking it slow, it seemed, on this invasion. But it would be hard to place the blame on them, since Basram was not the only country embittered by defeat and rise to power. . . since Asturia was the most economically powerful country out of all of them, after the fall of Zaibach, at least.

 "Ditch in the road," Teo warned Allen.

Allen moved carefully when he felt the dip beneath his feet, wary of his boots sliding.  But they did not give, and for that he was thankful.  He was easily the youngest within the group there, as well as the most foppish.  The clothes, though designed for cold weather such as this, were all finely spun and fashionable, of course, somehow managing to stick to the scallywag-like manner he usually wore.

 If only Gaddes was here, he thought silently as he walked, sighing.  He'd know what to do...

It wasn't too long that the guards who were watching over them and making them march forced them to the side, dragging them out of the way of -- something . . . They weren't dragged too far before both Allen and Teo fell to the snow, hard. Kio reeled on the guard.

 "Watch it, you asshole!" he yelled, and got a butt of the hand cannon in the nose for it. He, too, fell to the ground as blood spilled from his broken nose in cascades. Then the sound of wheels filled their ears, and the oxen snorting. 

Allen stumbled, falling over onto his already aching shoulder.  The cold, the flash of pain.  His muscles tensed harshly as he fought back the cough that threatened.

  All in vain, of course.  

The blonde winced, his narrow shoulders shaking with the coughs that wracked his body, sapping him of his energy and smattering the white snow with crimson from his lips.  Whent eh fit passed, he groaned, rolling miserably onto his side, curling up a little.

"Man, Kio - you've got more blood than a cow," Oruto said sardonically, the only one who had managed to stay on his feet. Until, of course, he too was shoved to the ground.

"Shut up." Kio said, his eyes watering from the pain and sting.

Teo looked over Allen, who had blood on his lips and was still coughing. "Boss, they're gonna use cannons..."

"What can we do about it?" he snapped weakly.  He wasn't angry at Teo, of course... but himself and the situation they were in.  Every once in awhile he'd cough, sometimes a little more blood slicking his lips.

"Kio," he muttered, after getting Oruto to tell him what had happened, "Sit with your head bowed, chin to your chest.  The bleeding'll stop quicker."

Kio did as he was told, while Oruto brooded and Teo shrunk. The boss was prone to snapping sometimes, but he quickly got over it. 

"We're really close to the fort walls, boss." Teo tried being helpful by at least describing where they were to his captain.

"Can you see them?  If you can't now, then tell me when you can."  Allen had to pause a few times as he spoke for a short bout of coughing, his voice soft and a little wheezy.

"No, no, when I said we're really close - I mean . . . 100 yard away." added Teo. 

"Then tell me about it."  Something to focus on.  He wouldn't admit it, but he was dizzy.  "What's going on?"

"Uh . . . I think we should dunk behind some trees now." he said hurriedly, Oruto already nudging Kio as best as he could with all their hands bound. "Move to your left, boss."

Allen shuffled to the side awkwardly, frowning a little as blood smeared against his shoulder.

"Now, now now," Teo said hurriedly, moving as fast as his frozen arse could scoot. The kept nudging Allen with his shoulder, who was ahead of him, to make him move faster, or so that he'll at least shield him from the volley of arrows their fort was preparing to launch. Basram commanders up and down the various ranks were shouting out orders in their guttural language, and the soldiers seemed to respond quickly. 

 Thick heavy clicks could be heard, like a large crank - but numerous cranks. The oxen stomped away, being led by their keepers to the side lines behind fortifications the army had put up. The air was overwhelmingly tense for a moment as the soldiers shuffled - waited. Waiting to see who would be the first to attack. Archers behind Fort Castelo's walls were poised and ready, Basram had cannons aimed.

"May the gods protect them..."  it was all he could ask, really.  His soft, rasped prayer was all he could think of to do, really.  He could only hope they had a chance... and that Riden had gotten out and heading towards Palas just fine.

Allen sighed softly, his head bowed.  The cold was starting to get to him, but he didn't complain.  At least his nose wasn't broken.  "Has the bleeding stopped?"

But Kio didn't have time to give an answer. The sound from the cannons reverberated through the very ground, like thunder emitting from the very earth. It was a magnificent booming that seemed to rip right through the chest and stop your heart with the incredible amplitude. With the cannon fire came a cacophony of soldier's battle cries. The front lines aiming their long barreled hand cannons.

 Arrows fired from the fort were launched, borrowing deep into the tree that Teo had nudged Allen behind. There was a strangled, choking cry and a thud of a body as it landed right next to the night into the snow.

Allen tensed, his eyes widening a little.  "They stand no chance... arrows, against those cannons?"  Fires... fires within the newly rebuilt fort.  Damn it... that was his home, that was where he belonged.  

 The blonde clenched his hands at his back, gritting his teeth.  If there weren't so many soldiers... if he stood the most minute chance...

"Our keeper's dead," said Teo from Allen's left, leaning up against the tree. "Oruto! See if you can get the arrow out. We might be able to cut our bonds and get the hell outta here." 

Oruto shifted, peeking out to make sure the volley of arrows had stopped for the moment, then sidled up to the body.  Grasping the protruding arrow tightly by the shaft, he yanked several times.  The going was slow with it, considering the angle he was grabbing it from, but eventually it worked it's way out with a nasty little splurch.

 When the arrow was free, he quickly moved out of the way as another barrage of arrows thunked into and around their captors.  He turned his back to Allen, instructing the blonde to move closer and set about trying to saw through the ropes.

Kio was no help, every time he moved his head, more blood would pour out from his broken nostrils. He kept groaning and hitting his head back against the tree. More cannon fire, the booming lurching through everyone's body. Teo could only watch Oruto in anticipation, already anxious and feeling more so as the Basramese army started to charge their fort's walls.

 "Oruto! Hurry up!" 

Finally Allen freed his hands, quickly taking the arrow from Oruto and, with his hands guided to the other's sawed at the rope until it gave way as well.  The blonde handed that one off as he grabbed another fallen arrow and the pair set about quickly freeing the rest.  "We have to hurry," he murmured, frowning.  He'd be of no use if they met up with resistance.  He didn't have his sword with him...

"Who leads the boss?" Kio asked nasally, tilting his head back as he moved to the balls of his feet. Teo took Allen's arm quickly.

 "I'll take him. Oruto, you take Kio." he said hastily.

Allen nodded, standing to a crouched position, waiting as Oruto pulled the other to his feet.  "Try and lean on me."    

 "Try to avoid as much confrontation as we can.  If there's a way we can get into the fort, then lead us that way."

The two men nodded and were already off running across the thick snow-filled ground and ducking behind various trees. They knew where to go, the entrance for the hanger . . . where Scherezade was currently stored. It was the only way into the fort without going through the front gates, which at the moment, were busy fending off the Basramese hordes.

 Teo grabbed Allen's arm, Allen being much taller, and already started pulling him off in his comrades footsteps. He had one hand stretched up to Allen's head, to make him duck out of the way of low branches and vines. There was no second guessing where they need to go - and they needed to run. Fast.

Allen was surprisingly light and easy on his feet, forcing the pain and weakness and dizziness away until they were inside.  But the brush of the cool air within the hangar was a relief, and while the pace slowed slightly, it didn't pause to a walk.  Allen frowned a bit as tremors passed through the ground at the attacks from the cannons.  They'd likely tear down the fort in no time.

"Kio and Oruto are probably already up top." said Teo, leading Allen quickly to the stairs passed the unused giant armor of Scherezade. "Basram doesn't have guymelefs - at least, I didn't see any. Boss, Scherezade is here. What if . . ." But how would that work? he had to ask himself.

Allen paused, turning his head slightly.  "I don't have my sword..."

 Recalling something that had been mentioned before, what Hitomi had taught Van... picturing them, finding out where they were.  The blonde furrowed his brow.  Could he do it?

 He found himself unintentionally drawn towards where he knew the melef sat, a silent steel champion.  His armor.  One hand brushed against the cool surface of it thoughtfully.

Teo looked at him, glancing at the stairs. More thunderous booming came from the surface and made everything quake, dust and rubble trickling onto them in the hanger. "Boss, what do you have in mind?" he asked, brushing off the dust from his head. His voice was panicked, rushed - they didn't have time to stand about idly. They needed to safe their fort!

"Teo, go inside, quickly.  Take up your swords with the others."  He didn't have his sword and damned if he was going to sit this battle out.  The blonde frowned darkly, climbing inside the familiar melef with ease.  He didn't need his sight to know these controls, to know how to work the mecha.  He turned his head sightlessly towards the other, flashing a little grin.  

"If something happens to me, keep fighting."  The faceplates slid into place and slowly, almost achingly so, the melef stood, the shoulder cape fluttering softly, dust and dirt falling in a dark rain off the smooth curves.

"Boss!" Teo cried frantically, stepping back as the gigantic armor stood. "Boss, you can't! You'll be killed! You can't see!"

"I don't need to," he murmured, then the melef turned towards the entrance, taking its loud, though still graceful, steps to the outside, the unsheathed sword in hand.  He was vaguely unaware of the shock that shifted through the soldiers on the fort walls at seeing the melef move swiftly outside, though he was sure he could imagine it.  

Teo had no choice but to run up the stairs and tell the rest of the soldiers, his shipmates, of what Allen had just done. They were all shocked, hurrying to gather more ammunition for the archers, to gather swords, pikes, armor, shields, anything . . .


	15. Battle Against Thunder

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Battle**** Against Thunder**

 Melzin was treating Gaddes' leg wound with iodine and a tourniquet, feeling the other man tense when he heard the news. Celena had been moved to the apothecary, as it was located below the castle for better access to the water. She lay on a bedroll that had been hastily set up for her, alert but unable to get very far - gods forbid should they have to flee. She still couldn't breathe very easily.

 "He couldn't have," she said, looking up suddenly as the cannon fire from Basram shook the walls, knocking over a couple more of Melzin's viles, as there were already a few of them shattered upon the stone floor. "He can't bloody see! What the . . . hell is he thinking," she had to take breaths in between her sentence.

***

Allen stood nearly motionless for a long moment, forcing himself to concentrate.  What was it, picture them?  Concentrate... this was for the fort, for Celena, for everyone...

 Another shower of cannon fire and he had them.  Scherezade moved damn fast, reacting as quickly and easily as he remembered. Soldiers inside his fort were yelling orders to move the hell out of the way of Scherezade – as it was moving right for them. It crashed through a part of the broken wall, surprising Allen briefly with the sudden incline of the hill. He caught the balance well enough, and moved on toward the sounds of cannonfire.

The sword brought up in an arc, the blade slicing easily through the ranks.  The cannons had to go first.  They were easiest to pick out, what with how loud they were.

No one knows how much time had passed. The soldiers inside the fort were moving about frantically, trying to get out of the way of the guymelef stomping around with a blind pilot. Not one of his more brilliant ideas, thought Gaddes as he limped out onto the parade grounds of the fort. The cannons had already shot through the walls high above them - as the fort was located on quite a hill and the enemy was attacking from the front.

 They must have figured on no guymelefs, thought the sergeant as he barked out orders to hastily refortify their splintered walls. For some reason, they wanted to keep this subtle, no giant armor to give them away - since guymelef's left distinct footprints. The cannons were odd, though - why no guymelefs yet bring in modern technology? Gaddes couldn't fathom an answer. He stood watching Scherezade, hoping Allen wouldn't get himself killed.

 There was one last round of cannon fire before the whole line of them were taken out by Scherezade's sword - a lucky blow, to say the least. All most too lucky. How the hell the knight did it was beyond Gaddes. He just grinned and hoped their walls wouldn't fall completely.

Most of the cannons out of the way, Allen directed his attentions inward, toward the sounds of the battle around him.  More cannons a little ways off, though he doubted he'd get there easily.  "Come on," he murmured to the melef, turning towards the sounds.  He managed to take out a few more before the force of the blow jarred him--he was a more immediate threat than the walls of the fort.  The screech and pull of metal was horrifying, the sound deafening him, as well as a great many soldiers about him.  

 At least the severed arm managed to land on a mob of the attacking soldiers.

 Balance was a little off, and a few testing, clumsy swings got him, not only back on balance, but also made him realize just what damage had been done.  A soft curse lingered on his lips, especially when the dizziness began to creep back into his consciousness.  Within the unit, his head wasn't secured and he'd slammed it back against the metal grating rather hard.  And it hurt.  A lot.  Blood trickled from a wound near his temple.

 Well, there went his perfect advantage.  Not that it really was perfect to begin with.

With the cannons taken out, there were commands among the Basram armies - the familiar sounds of retreat were hard to miss, no matter what language it was in. Some soldiers cheered, others simply sighed in relief or exhaustion, or both. The archers at the remaining walls continued to launch vollies of arrows, firing at will as the last of the scrambling army ducked inside the forest canopies and hid among the snow.

Scherezade was on a knee, one would assume for the pilot to get out, but he didn't.  The stump where the missing arm had once been crackled with snapped wires, sizzling.  Blood and charred remains from the cannons stood defeated.  They had won for now.

Soldiers were running up to Scherezade, hopping over the broken pieces of wall where Allen had broken through to get to the cannons. They climbed down the hill quickly, reaching the kneeling giant armor and scaling it. 

"Captain! Captain!" some were yelling, knocking on the broken metal.

 "Sir Allen," said another. Most of the soldiers were wary of the sizzling wires, walking around it carefully as they tried to get a glimpse of their captain. Was he hurt? Was he alive? They were anxious for the answers, dreading the worst possible scenario.

Allen groaned quietly, doubled over.  The heels of his hands he pressed into his sightless eyes, trying to banish the painful dizziness that swept over him, added onto it by the wound to his head that he'd sustained.  Too bad those bastards bled horribly.

The blonde knight coughed again, moving gloved hands to cover his mouth at blood slipped from his lips again.  Allen groaned again, the breathing slightly raspy, trying to force himself to stay awake.

But the fight was in vain.  He'd been pushing off his weakness too much, pushed himself too far and his mind and body both had had enough.  Shoving his will aside, his mind slowed, nudging him into unconsciousness, his head lolling lightly to the side.  The cockpit fluttered open and, almost as if the melef spit him out, the lithe, bruised body of their commander slipped out, folding up limply on his side as he hit the ground.

 Really, with all the blood, he looked worse off than he was.

There were about five soldiers fussing over the broken Scherezade, yelling at each other, while they had all searched about frantically for the release wire that would open the guymelef's front. One of them had finally stumbled upon it, yanking on the rope under the front breast plate. Hydraulics worked and broken the chest plate open, giving a full few of their captain in the pilot's capsule. Where their captain was now on the ground, so too were all five soldiers, crowding their commander and worrying.  

He was bloodied up rather well but there really was no way to tell how much of it was his own. 

"Captain!" said one that was kneeling beside Allen and was now shaking at the knight's shoulder. 

 Allen was exhausted, his energy taxed.  He'd focused so much into controlling the melef, into worrying about Riden and the others, into trying to get back to the fort that he'd spared none simply for the act of staying awake.  He was a little pale, the blood smeared against his face slicked part of his hair, as well.

 Pretty much what he needed was that head wound to be taken care of and a good bit of rest.

 His flesh had gotten a littler warmer than it should have been, just the beginnings of a fever.  But that would fade.

 Oruto had dashed outside and upon seeing Allen topple from the melef, picked up his pace.  Making sure nothing was broken--though he was a bit bruised from being jolted about inside the suit--he lifted the lithe commander into his arms and headed back inside, clutching him close.

Of course, all of the loyal soldiers under Allen's command followed. They were completely shocked, having witnessed Allen execute an insubordinate soldier and now was frantically being carried back to the fort by one of his crew. They followed as far as they could go, which was on the hallside door to the apothecary. Gaddes limped on inside while Oruto was just laying him down on the table.

 Celena was still on her bedroll on the floor, watching. "It's almost . . . funny now." she said without humor.

Oruto blinked, looking up at the small-framed girl.  "I... pardon, missy?"  He wasn't one much for talking... and he couldn't quite understand just how any of this was funny at all.  He glanced at the apothecary, frowning.  "He's been coughing a lot, especially when he was forced to sit _in_ the snow.  I don't think anything's broken, though..."

Melzin, ever present in his precious apothecary, immediately began treating Allen's wounds. As he did so, he shoved a bottle of some concoction into Oruto's hands with some linen squares and a ball of refined cotton. "Here, go make yourself useful." said the healer.

Oruto blinked, looking at the bottle in his hands.  "Ah... doing what?"  He looked confused for a moment, glancing at Allen, then to the bottle and medical supplies in his hands.  After a moment, he glanced over at Gaddes, as well.

"It's just distilled potato vodka," explained Melzin, who did not look up from cleaning the mess around Allen's fair head, "administer it to the injured. _Now_ before they get gangrene, for pity's sake."

"Oh," he murmured, then turned, doing as he was bidden to those soldiers who'd gathered in the room, slumped against the wall as they nursed various wounds. Though every once in awhile he'd glance over at Allen to see how he was doing.

 The fever was faint and nothing to worry about too much, but his back and shoulder were bruised.  The shoulder that had recently been dislocated had swollen a little, the joints still tender and the hard fall he'd taken made it ache and get irritated.  The head wound had finally stopped bleeding, leaving him pale, but for the faint flush to his cheeks.  He'd be fine.  Nothing major had been done to him, really, except for the fact that he'd demanded too much of himself.

 But that was a normal occurrence for Allen, really.

"Lad," spoke Melzin, putting two hands on either side of Allen's recently shaken head. "Allen, can you hear me? You awake?"

It took a few more tries for pale eyelids to flutter slightly, a groan on his lips.  He ached, that was one thing he knew.  And another... he was tired.

"No, no, laddy. Ye can't fall asleep on me now." said Melzin worriedly, knowing the risks of concussion, which was probably what Allen had. Even if he didn't, every healer knows to always treat for one if you have a head injury. . . the blood was a pretty good indication that Allen had been hit on the head. "Wake up for me. Come on." He lightly slapped at Allen's cheeks to bring him around.

The blonde started slightly, though it was hard to tell if he was really awake or not by looking at him.  He didn't need to open his eyes, after all, to be awake.  There wouldn't be any recognition in them.

 "Nn..."  He murmured something rather unintelligible with the word "sleep" in there somewhere, his eyes fluttering slightly.

"Gaddes, lad, bring me the smelling salts, up there on the second shelf," He vaguely indicated where the object was with a wave of his hand, pulling Allen to sit up and set his back against the wall on the table. "Come on, Allen. Wake up. Stay awake."

"Tired," he murmured, head lolling a little.  The smelling salts under his nose gave him a start and he, well... accidentally smacked the back of his head against the wall.  Which really didn't help him in the least.  The blonde groaned, doubling over, head in his hands.  He had a raging headache.

"Oh, dear." Melzin clicked his tongue, his brows furrowed. The young captain certainly did look a mess. Melzin didn't quite yet know what sort of part he'd played in the battle earlier. 

"You can hear me, can you, lad? Tell me yes if you can hear me." He was a clever healer, that much credit was due, at least. Having heard the muffled booming, and the quakes that they resulted, well - human ears are sensitive, after all.

Allen didn't really respond, heels of his hands pressing softly against his eyes.  His head hurt, the headache blossoming from the screech of the metal, slamming his head against the metal of the melef, and then that right there.  He was just striking out everywhere.  The blonde shivered slightly, but not from cold.  He didn't know why, really.

 The poor kid... he was temporarily deafened.  He'd lost his second most important sense.

"Why won't he answer?" Asked Celena from the floor on her bedroll, trying to standing and leaning heavily upon one of the herb cluttered counters for support. Melzin helped Allen to lay back down, pumping out some water from the spout attached to the wall over a basin. The apothecary was the only room with such a device located indoors. He poured the water into a cup before pouring it gently onto Allen's flushed forehead.

 "My guess is that he can't hear anything at the moment," said Melzin quietly.

Allen winced a little from the cool water, though not out of pain, but surprise.

 "Scherezade's arm got ripped clean off," Gaddes murmured, frowning, looking at his friend.  "It's no small wonder that he can't hear."  Gaddes could only hope that it wasn't permanent.  A blind and deaf commander wouldn't work, no matter how much they wouldn't want to get rid of him.

"It's probably temporary, lad, so don't you worry," Melzin quickly assured him, stroking the wet locks of blond back from Allen's face before pouring more of the cold water, so that it seeped into his scalp and cooled him. "I heard the horrible racket from down here. I can only imagine how much it had been amplified being right next to it. No, no, he should be fine in a few hours - though I'll bet he has a horrible headache."

 "Let me go to him," Celena pleaded quietly, "Gaddes, help me go to my brother."

"He doesn't need any more handicapping," Gaddes said quietly, walking over to Celena and helping her up and over to her brother's side.  

 The cold of the water kept him awake, thankfully, though his head throbbed.  He rolled onto his side, thankfully not the one with the injured shoulder, ducking his head into his hands.  

Melzin gently pushed his hands down to administer more cool water. "He won't be handicapped anymore than he already is. Our ears might be sensitive, but their far more resilient than you think."

 With Gaddes to support her, Celena leaned over her brother. His eyes were open and moving about, as if trying to see something. They always did that when he had them open, even if he didn't mean to do it. 

"I wouldn't know what to do if he was deaf _and_ blind." She bent down low and gave him a kiss on his lips, a gentle kiss that tasted of . . . peaches. As Celena had been eating a peach before the fort was attacked.

 Melzin stopped, tactfully turning away and not thinking anything of the kiss. Their closeness was not his place to question, and was solely their business.

Gaddes was silent and felt a sting at his chest.  But those two belonged each other, no matter how much horrid luck they had brought upon themselves.  Allen started a little at her touch, grazing her arm with a blood-stained gloved hand.  His own blood, of course.  

 He didn't say anything, but maybe this way he could stay awake.  It registered in the back of his mind that he should.

Celena leaned on the table to support herself, as her legs had begun to feel weak already. One hand reached over across Allen's face and gently rested and stroked the sensitive spot just under his ear, the other hand took the bloodied one and held it gently. She pulled out of the kiss and, moving her lips along his skin to just under the other ear, she began to speak to him, her lips moving as they touched his skin and her breath warm upon it.

"I know you can't hear me right now, Allen. But it's Celena. We're going to be okay. I'm getting better . . ." she continued to speak sweet nothings, just to let him know that it was her and that she was in fact speaking to him – hoping her breath and lips would soothe him in such a sensitive area on his fair face. Melzin nodded approvingly. They were very close, and it reminded the old healer of twins. He was just glad they could bring comfort to each other, when and if no one else would.

Blind and temporarily deaf.  Or permanently, as far as he knew.  What luck.  Gloved fingers tightened a little, twining with hers.  It was Celena, he knew that much, if only by the feel of her hands.  But even still he had to fight off waves of dizziness, his other hand resting lightly on his thigh.

 Gaddes kept a hold on her, supporting her, though kindly turning his head away... if only to keep himself from saying something.  He didn't belong there where she was.  Those to needed each other, craved each other.

"I'll stay here, with you, Allen . . ." she finished with a last shuddering breath upon his face, her stroking hand on at his ear suddenly pulled away as her knees gave in.

Gaddes blinked, tightening his hold on her, bracing her.  There wasn't enough room where Allen was to set her down on, so he was, well... at a loss.  So he held her tightly, though not tight enough to bruise, supporting her.

 Allen turned his head slightly towards her, frowning a little.  "Rest, Celena," he murmured... and it felt entirely too odd to not be able to hear himself speak it.

One last attempt made the girl grab at the edge of the table where Allen lay, pulling herself against Gaddes' strength, supporting herself as best she could as she hovered above her brother one last time, kissing him again, her body shuddering and lips trembling as it threatened to break down into sobs.

It was almost as if it was on cue, the wave of dizziness that passed over him then, making him start a little, though this time he didn't smack his head against the wall, which was, of course, good.  He groaned, bowing his head into his hands again, shoulders shaking a little.  This business was starting to get terribly irritating.

Celena was settled back down on her bedroll, as the threat from Basram was most severe and might attack the fort with reinforcements. They couldn't risk her to go back to her bed in the room. The floor was cold in the apothecary, the stone harsh and unrelenting, but the soldiers who were not injured - all of them quite fond of their commander's pretty sister - had taken care to pile her on blankets to keep her warm.

***

Celena slept a little, on and off for no more than 20 minutes at a time. Melzin attended to all the soldiers who were huddled against the walls of his apothecary, with the help of Oruto, disinfecting and binding wounds with torn linens. Rations were eventually passed out, Celena given a honey biscuit to nibble. Dinner time then, she thought. There was no way to tell the time of day in this place, as it was not unlike a dungeons and there were no windows.

 Gaddes had stroked her hair when she took the biscuit, biting off a small piece and chewing carefully. "Is my brother awake, Gaddes?" she asked the sergeant.

"I don't think he is, Celena.  He's been just like you, on and off being awake.  Melzin has to keep coming back and waking him up."  

 Gaddes sighed a bit, shaking his head.  After a moment, he turned, walking over to Allen's side, a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.  "Boss, c'mon, stay awake..."

 Allen groaned, shifting a little underneath the other man's hand, drawn out of his light sleep yet again.  He bowed his head against Gaddes' shoulder.  "...'M so tired..."

 "You can't go to sleep, Boss..."

 "I know."  Allen blinked, starting a little, groaning at the dizzy spell that washed over him at the sudden movement. 

 "Allen!  Damn it, you have to stop doing that."  Gaddes frowned, shaking his head slightly, glancing over at Melzin.  "I think he can hear again... because he can't read my lips and he just responded."  A logical observation, of course.

"Aye, I said it was temporary. I wasn't lyin to ye, lad." said Melzin as he finished tying a bandage on a wounded soldier's leg. He straightened, stretching a bit, and walked over to where Allen lay, looking over him. "Ah, laddy. How's that head of yours? Got it banged up nicely, t'ain't two ways about it."

Allen groaned a little as he spoke.  "It's throbbing..."  Of course, it would be expected, of course. A gloved hand raised, pressing gently against his temple, a frown tugging on his lips*

"Yes, you've a nasty bruise there." Melzin took Allen's hand away from the offending temple, gently, "You mustn't touch. I'll give you something to soothe it." Reaching for a bottle on one of the counters, Melzin applied an ointment to both Allen's temples. It smelled strongly of mint and eucalyptus and . . . something. But it readily soothed and cooled the skin, the vapors from so potent a concoction quickly reaching Allen's nostrils, opening his lungs for easier breathing.

 "There, now. How does that feel?" 

"A bit better," he murmured, sighing a bit.  He hadn't had a fit of coughing since he was warm and unstressed and that was good.  Gaddes looked over at Allen, shaking his head slightly.  He nore his sister didn't deserve any of this.  Of all the people in this world to suffer such things, did it have to be them?

"You scared the hell out of me . . . again." admonished Gaddes quietly.

"Ah?  Well... it pushed them back for a bit, didn't it?  It was well worth it.  It's not like I'm going to die from this."  Or yet, anyway.  He didn't know the exact extent of his damage but he doubted it was lethal.  "It was fine, Gaddes."  Allen flashed a little bit of a smile, though it was tired.  

Gaddes placed a concerned hand on his friend's chest, smiling as well. "I'm so glad . . . just, my gods, you didn't get killed after all." He grinned more than smiled now, "And you'll never guess who showed up."

"Hah, as if I would."  Allen teased Gaddes proudly, lifting his chin a mite.  Oruto had spoken rather proudly of Allen, about how he'd carried himself within the encampment.  

 "He walked like a king, Sarge."

 Of course, Allen held great esteem in his pride.  That was important.

 "Who?"  Allen frowned a little, arching a brow.  "Hell," he muttered softly, "I need to get my sword back.  ....Er... who?"  

"Riden was able to bring us reinforcements, except that they'll be here by tomorrow. But the King of Fanelia - and his new queen - have come early to discuss defensive maneuvers." said Gaddes, touching Allen's shoulder with a grin.

Allen blinked a bit, then grinned right back.  "Good... good."  Of course, that would mean Van finding out about his blindness, but that was all part of it, wasn't it?  The blonde had already vowed that he wouldn't let it utterly rule his life and he meant it.  

 "New queen?  Tell me it's not Merle."  Allen laughed a little, turning his head slightly towards Gaddes.

"No, he didn't marry her. Although, she'll be leading the Fanelian forces. Apparently she's an excellent guymelef pilot." said Gaddes with a smirk, "Hitomi's here, Allen."

"Hitomi?  By... they truly were meant to stay at each other's sides."  Allen smiled a little, inclining his head.  "Good for them.  They are currently here, you say?"

"Yeah, I put them in some empty rooms on this floor. Didn't want to take any chances with royals, you know. That actually reminds me. I should fix you up a room - not that you deserve it for scaring me like you did." Gaddes gripped his friend's arm, not in an unkindly way, "Just - stop trying to get yourself killed."

"I'm not trying to get myself killed, Gaddes," Allen chided kindly, smiling a bit, "but I have to take risks.  This is my home... if I hadn't taken that risk, they wouldn't have fallen back like they had and the fort would be overrun.  You know it just as well as I do, we weren't prepared for an attack like that."  Allen clasped a hand over Gaddes', nodding slightly to him.

"Well, get better so that we _can_ be." retorted the sergeant. He gave a light huff, "bet you freaked out earlier when you couldn't hear anything . . ."

"I was rather panicked.  After all, if I lost my hearing as well... I'd be useless here."  Allen sighed softly at that.  "Well... at least it was temporary, though I would have rather had it not have happened at all."

 "What's the damage to Scherezade?  Much, I expect.  The arm's either gone or utterly useless, that much I know."

"Yeah, you're right about the arm." said Gaddes, "That's probably what knocked out your hearing, really. They recovered the melef back into the hanger, pieces included. The arm was pretty much torn completely off. Those cannons the Basram nation has . . . it's freakish."

"I felt the jerk... it was horrid and admittedly altogether frightening.  The sound, augh..."  Allen sighed softly.  "They're definitely an advantage they have over us.  They have larger numbers--or did until Fanelia came, and might still, perhaps--and those cannons of theirs.  We don't have many melefs left over from the war with Zeibach, do we?"  Allen frowned a little, lips pursed as he thought.

"If Van uses Escaflowne, we might be able to hold them off of these borders. They've got a long way to go before they reach Palas, boss." Gaddes looked around, seeing all of the injured men and somehow able to find some shred of hope, "We'll be okay. With any luck, Basram would at least be discouraged for a little while."

"Hopefully.  Though seeing Scherezade's arm blown off might give them a bit of hope.  That was the only melef unit they saw, so it's logical to assume that it's the only one we've got.  Wait... did Van even bring Escaflowne?"  Allen frowned a little, turning his head towards Gaddes.

"No, he didn't. His royal pain in the ass came on a private leviship." he answered.

"Then we can't be sure he's going to fight in it."  Allen sighed, slowly managing to sit up on his own.  "I have to speak with them," he murmured.  Stubborn and addicted to work, just like usual.

"Well," began the other man cautiously, "you don't have your cane. Need help?" As much as he always hated asking such a trivial thing, he felt obligated to at least _ask_ nowadays.

"...Actually, it would be better."  Allen frowned a little.  He didn't like the idea of it, but he didn't have the cane and he likely couldn't walk solidly, either.  Allen grasped Gaddes' shoulder after feeling his way up his arm and slid himself off where he rested.  The cloak had been lain aside, but it didn't matter much to him.  The added weight would be a hindrance.

"Alright." he said, taking hold of the knight's hand tenderly, wary of his friend's injury. Now, Gaddes wasn't too fond of this idea either. The less he had to help his once fully able friend around, the better - the less it would hurt to watch the man struggle so. But being the compassionate person that Gaddes was, it couldn't be helped when it came down to it. 


	16. King Van and Queen Hitomi

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**King Van and Queen Hitomi**

 Slowly, carefully, Gaddes led Allen out of the apothecary, stopping every once in a while to let Allen's head clear up. "You holding up alright, Allen?"

"I'll be fine," he murmured softly, nodding a little.  "Just keep going."  Even still, they had to stop every once in awhile for him to let the dizziness pass.  It was utterly annoying.  "Can't even bloody walk normally," he muttered softly to himself, obviously irritated with how weak his body was at the moment, but he pressed onwards.

It really wasn't too much longer before the reached the heavy oaken door behind which sat the royals of Fanelia - it was only down the hall from the apothecary, after all. But Gaddes stopped, gripping Allen's arm to hold him up. 

 "Okay, boss. We're here. How much do you want to play up appearances?" he asked.

"I think I can walk a little bit without aid."  Granted, Van and Hitomi would find out eventually, but for now... first impressions.  He had to remain strong.  "But you'll stay with me."  Of course, he didn't think Gaddes would argue.

"I thought so. When you walk in, count to about 7. There's a chair for you to sit in." It was almost automatic - he had prepared for his friend's arrogance. Inwardly, he grinned at his own forward thinking.

Allen smiled softly, nodding to him.  "What would I do without you and Celena, mm?"  The blonde hadn't bothered to change into his uniform, and instead still wore teh bloodstained clothes he'd been brought inside with.  Thankfully, the melted snow had dried, slicking off the leather of his pants and boots.  He reached up, finding the door, rapping on it with a gloved hand.  Some appearances to make.

There were some muffled voices, a frank exchange of words between Van and, presumably, Hitomi. The response to the knock was quick, snippish - typical Van. "Yes?"

"I've recently heard of your arrival, your Lordship, and I'm playing out my duty to greet you."  His tone wasn't cold, that nearly same soft voice from before.

"Well, come in then!" he yelled from behind the door.

Allen smiled to himself.  Still the same old Van.  He trailed his gloved fingers to the knob, turning it and pushing the door open.  He looked a mess, really, with his clothes all bloodied, looking a little paler than he usually did.  But he still held himself proudly, of course.

"Van, please just take it easy." That was Hitomi, her voice sounded a little different. A little more grown up. Van's got a little deeper. There were, of course, the obligatory guards - two samurai that stood like shadows at the back of the room. Hitomi took Van's hand, the young king only heaving a heavy sigh.

 "I'm calm, Hitomi." he assured her. "Allen, I hope you weren't too busy getting yourself killed."

Allen smirked a little, turning his head towards their voices.  He wouldn't be able to keep up that ruse for very long, he knew that.  But he would as long as he could.  "I'm still here, aren't I?  I suppose I wasn't busy enough with it, then."  Then, the smile softened and he inclined his head towards where Hitomi was.  "It's wonderful to know that you are back with us, Hitomi."

"Thank you, Allen." she said, wanting to feel happier than she did. As soon as their friend had walked into the room, she noticed something different about him. The way he stepped, and carried himself. It was - odd. So for the time being, she only stared, studying him. Something was wrong. Van, on the other hand, was too busy pacing, having pulled his hand from his wife's.

 "Basram's being tricky again. And I don't like that." said Van as he paced, "You're lucky the skirmish today didn't end up on the wrong side of the turf. Not one melef, but plenty of cannons. . . I just don't get it."

"It's likely they're going to focus a melef attack on a better position.  Like, say... Palas.  I have a feeling it's where they're going to move towards.  With the queen just so recently situated at the throne, it's a weakness.  The people haven't had time to get used to her rule and she hasn't had time to get used to it either."  Allen paused, forcing the dizziness that threatened out of his mind.  Allen bowed his head slightly, almost thoughtfully.

 Or, because of Scherezade, they might bring out their forces now, if they've got them nearby."

"We flew over the area. It's covered in snow, but we didn't see any more camps." Van stopped his pacing and went up to Allen, "But that doesn't mean they won't send for them. I think you're right, about . . . about - a second attack." He grew quiet, his sentence drifting.

Allen didn't much seem to notice, gloved thumb tracing his chin softly, lips pursed in thought.  "Well, it would be difficult to hide melefs, so thankfully I don't think they've got them.  Or at least not that close at hand.  However, we have the crippled Scherezade... and as far as I remember, that's about it for the most part.  We haven't had too much time to restock all of our weaponry since the fort was rebuilt... Van, what's wrong?"

Hitomi had remained silent, still staring at Allen where he stood - so proud and tall. Van had grown into more tact since three years ago, and for a 19 year old, that's a pretty big stride. His voice was quiet, careful, and as strategic as his battle plans.

 "How did you pilot Scherezade then?" he asked.

Allen arched a brow slightly.  "Well, it wasn't crippled when I was piloting it.  Or rather, when I started piloting it."  Allen's brow furrowed slightly... he had the distinct feeling that that wasn't really what Van was talking about.

"You can't see, can you?" continued the king.

Allen sighed softly, the pride faltering a little.  But a small smile graced his lips.  "For nearly a year, I believe.  There was an uprising in Palas and the knighthood took up the front of the castle.  Needless to say that I wasn't the only one injured."

"And that's supposed to be reassuring?" retorted Van, somewhat angry. He turned away and started pacing again, cursing under his breath with an occasional, "_Shit_!"

 "My husband," smiled Hitomi sadly, standing and moving to Allen, "He has a bit of a temper still, I guess."

"Van, I am not as sorely crippled as one might think.  I am still a soldier here, still a knight.  And I will fight to defend my country, whether or not I am blind.  I have done well enough as it is.  There isn't a worry about it."  Allen smiled a little, nodding slightly, one hand resting on the doorframe.  "But he wouldn't be Van without it, would he?"

"I . . . think he needs more time to brood. We were celebrating a holiday in Fanelia when Riden came on horseback. And - well - your news," Hitomi bit her lip, deciding to be uncouth and put her arms around the knight that had saved her life more than once during their adventures. "It's good to see you again, my good friend."

"It is good to know that you are back and that both of you are safe."  Allen smiled softly, hugging her gently back.  No advances on her this time.  His lusts had been shoved aside by protocol, as well as the fact that he had other matters to attend to.  Like not falling over.

It stung rather badly, the news of her friend's loss of sight. She felt there was something different in the way he looked, his head, his eyes as they seemed to stare right through her. She pulled away from the hug, looking up at Allen's face as he stared straight ahead. "Are you well enough to walk with me? I have a gift for you."

"A gift?  For me?  Why, I would walk anywhere, if only for a bit of time in your presence, that is a gift enough."  Okay, so the flirtations weren't completely gone... but they weren't serious.  Allen smiled a little, nodding slightly to her.  He felt Gaddes tense slightly.  

 "Don't worry... I'll be fine."

So they started back down the hallways of the fort, now rebuilt. Hitomi had marveled at it's completion - noting how everything looked so much better now that it was new, instead of worn with age. Allen followed her with a gentle hand grasping her upper arm - as she had seen blind people from her world follow others who led them. How terribly disheartening, and it made her furrow her brows to look at his face, which was still so handsome and strong.

 "You're sister came back to you three years ago." began the new queen of Fanelia, "How is she?"

"She is... well enough.  Recently she suffered illness and it still plagues her, but she is strong."  Allen nodded slightly, walking with one hand brushing against the wall as they walked, if only to catch himself it he stumbled.

"Of course she is. She must be like her brother." Hitomi smiled, touching his hand that was on her arm. "I am so happy that you have her back, Allen. That _she_ has you. Back when I first met you, you were filled with such melancholy, it hurt to see you so pained by your memories."

There were still memories that pained him, but he wouldn't bother her with that.  "Thank you, Hitomi... having her back has done much for me."

"I'm glad, Allen." she said sincerely, "Now about my gift to you." and she tugged him to a stop, right there in the middle of a hallway in the fort.

Allen arched a brow, turning his head towards her.  "Yes...?"  Now what could she give him there?  What did she need to give him in the first place?

"You remember my pendant, I'm sure." Hitomi said.

"I do, yes."  Allen nodded slightly, arching a brow.

Hitomi smiled, taking both of Allen's hands gently in her own, kissing them lightly - affectionately. She took the pendant from her neck, pulling the chain over her head and pressed it into Allen's palm. "It belongs to you now, Allen."

Allen started slightly, stepping back to brace his foot against the wall to steady himself.  I really have to stop that...

 The blonde, cocked his head to the side a little.  "I... I do appreciate the gesture, but why?  Surely you have more use for it."

"It belongs in your family, Allen. Or don't you remember?" She said softly, keeping her hands wrapped around his as they held the trinket. 

Allen sighed softly, a faint smile on his lips.  "Hitomi... could I ask you to teach me how to do what you taught Van?  How to picture them?  I... well, I obviously can't see them, so I cannot know that way."

"Who do you wish to see?" Hitomi asked, her voice suddenly grown sadder with the mention of his disability. It didn't seem right to her, that he be so different from the memory she held of him. But was there any use to bemoan what she cannot change?

"Well, as in, say... battle.  I cannot bring myself to sit this one out, but I am hardly as useful as the others in this state."

She seemed startled for a moment, wanting to protest about him joining this battle. His head, she could see, was quite bruised, even that she can tell in the dim candle light of the hallways. He was having trouble standing, leaning against the hallway. His whole demeanor just gave her a very bad feeling about what he was asking. 

 "A-Allen," she began, hesitant, "I . . . will teach you. But I don't think it's a good idea for you to fight. Not yet."

"I have no choice.  We have a limited number of soldiers here.  I won't stand back and let everyone else do the fighting for me, though they would readily do it.  They have the same concerns as you, Hitomi."  Allen was almost begging, his hands curling around hers.  "There are people here I want to protect."

Then it was plain to her as daylight. Despite the emptiness of his soft cornflower blue orbs, she could see, in them - everything that he was feeling. His anxiety and his love shone through the most. His brow was furrowed - but all the emotion behind his sightless eyes nearly overwhelmed her. She clasped his hands. 

 "I understand, Allen. More than you could know." She took his hands and put them to her face, nuzzled his soft knuckles and fingers. "How I have missed you, Allen. So soon do I see you before you might be going to battle again. I was so scared, during the great war, that I might lose you or Van. So scared. Please be careful, promise me."

"I will be.  I'll return to all of you, of course.  I lived through that war, I've lived through everything else... I will return."  Allen smiled softly, then hugged her tightly.  "Thank you," he breathed softly, grateful, "this is the greatest gift you could give me."

She smiled against his chest, enjoying their moment. He was a true friend, and she would never forget that. The tender embrace was so delicate and full of his affection for her. She was glad for it, and was loathe to pull out of it. But she did so to take the pendant from his hand and bestow it upon him properly, fitting the chain around his neck.

 "This pendant belonged to your father," she said, touching his chest where the trinket lay upon his muscled front. 

Allen sighed softly, nodding a little.  "So it did..."  He couldn't thank her enough for what she was going to give him, for the chance to push away his weakness.  He could see more or less if he could get this right.

"It's always brought me luck. It brought me here, to be able to meet all of you - I think you'll find it rather useful." She touched his face gently, grinning, "If anything, the pink stone would match with your pink cravat on your Caeli uniform."

Allen laughed a little, nodding slightly.  He didn't mind her touch, it was soft and warm... comforting.  The touch brought back memories before all of this, when he could still see her.  "So it would, I do believe you're right."

Hitomi brightened a bit, seemingly reading his thoughts and guiding his hand to her shoulder length hair, "Look, I grew my hair out a bit."

He blinked a bit, then smiled, drawing his hand away and tugging off the blood-stiffened glove.  Then he reached out, brushing his fingers through her hair.  "Wonderful... I'm sure you look stunning.

"Well," she began, thinking about it and concluding softly, "why don't you find out?"

Allen arched a brow slightly, hand resting on her shoulder.  He looked, well... a little confused. Taking his glove-free hand, she put it gently to her face, keeping it their with her steady hold. "Don't you want to see how I've grown up?"

Allen's brow furrowed slightly and he nodded a bit.  "I would... but how?"  The blonde blinked unseeingly.

Hitomi gave a small laugh, "Use your hands."

Allen looked a little confused for a moment, then slowly traced his fingers over her flesh.  And it was like he could see her, picture the changes to her face as his fingers glided across her jaw and lips and nose.  He smiled slowly, softly.  "I'd never thought of it," he murmured softly...

"What do you feel?" she asked fondly, softly as he kept his hands moving over her features.

"Your face... it's longer and you seem older.  Are you taller?"  Allen cocked his head to the side a little, arching a brow.

Hitomi giggled, "A little, yes. 3 years changes a 15 year old, apparently. You seriously never thought of using your hands like that before?"

"No... not at all.  To be honest, what few times I've seen blind men and women, they... don't."  Allen shook his head slightly, once more letting his hands rest on her shoulders.

 "Just as I expected.  Beautiful."

Hitomi blushed demurely. This was not against the vows to her husband, as this man before her was a good friend. But girls and boys still get flattered from compliments to each other. She, of course, said nothing in response to Allen's. "I think I should get you back to somewhere where you can lie down. I heard about what happened today. You look a little pale."

"I think it might be best.  Admittedly I'm not in the best of health, and the cold isn't helping."  Of course, neither was getting thrown around inside a melef unit.  Allen smiled slightly, nodding to her.  "And Hitomi...?  Thank you."

"Anything for a friend," was her warm reply, taking his arm and leading him back the way they'd come from downstairs. After Hitomi said her goodnights, Gaddes once again led Allen back to the Apothecary. They were probably going to be stuck living under ground for a while, with Basram threatening their borders. 

 Thankfully, there weren't as many men in the apothecary, most leaving once they'd been bandaged up by Melzin, who was now sitting in a chair, snoozing and totally exhausted. Oruto was glad to be done with the tasks he'd been given, and at the first possibly moment, excused himself from staying one more second in that dank, musty air.

 Soon, it was just Celena on the floor, Gaddes having to pick her up and moving the siblings to a room he'd had prepared for them. There weren't many on the lower level, so many of the soldiers were crammed together in numbers. Allen and Celena would have to share. The girl, still breathing so shallow in her sleep, was settled into a bedroll, the same mountain of blankets on top of her.

Allen had marveled on the way back what Hitomi had shown him.  He'd done it to Gaddes, too.  He didn't really say anything once they'd reached the room, and when Celena had been settled down, Allen reached up, touching Gaddes' face softly, smooth, lightly calloused fingers drifting over the itchy stubble.  Allen smiled softly, wonderingly.  "I can see you," he breathed softly his voice almost trembling.

"Allen..." spoke Gaddes, his tone downtrodden as he looked to the floor. He closed his eyes when his former lover touched him so lightly. It was so intimate, and it just made Gaddes sad, for it was yet another part of his friend that had changed since the day of the riots. There were joys to be had in seeing, to see vibrant color, the sky, the moons, the people you love - it was as if those joys were wrenched away from not just Allen, but Gaddes too, who had to watch his friend endure.

Allen smiled softly, hugging Gaddes, sighing a bit.  "She's going to teach me how to picture them, the way she taught Van.  To find them without my sight.  And then... then I'll be able to fight beside all of you again."  He traced his hands over the other's jaw again, smiling a bit.  "You know... that always used to tickle."  

 The blonde sighed softly, that small, soft, almost sad smile still tugging on his lips.  Touching him like this, so close to him reminded him of the time before all of this.  Before Celena had returned... before he'd fallen in love with his sister.

Gaddes chuckled lightly, smiling  just a bit for his friend as those deft fingers traced over his mouth for the fifth time. It couldn't be helped, not really. He pulled back at that moment, looking at those eyes he'd once been in love with -- was still a little in love with -- and how they were half-closed and sightless. Gaddes needed to close his eyes for this, otherwise it would just hurt too much. His poor knight, he would think . . .

 . . . before leaning forward, and touching his lips with his own - a sweet, chaste kiss, much like Celena's had been earlier while Allen was still deafened.

Allen's first reaction was that this embrace was familiar.  The touch of Gaddes' lips against his, it was something he knew very well.  Comforting.  It felt right.  For just a moment he returned the kiss before it was gone and he felt almost empty.  

 Gaddes and Celena both had close places in his heart.  He could not make the choice alone, though it had already been made.  Hadn't it?  

"Gaddes..." he murmured softly, his voice almost wistful.  He didn't have to be strong here, he didn't have to pretend, not with either of them.  He wished he could see Gaddes, see him with his eyes, not his mind, not his fingers.

Gaddes, of course, felt the change right away. When he pulled away, he didn't really know what his first reactions should be. He felt embarrassed, for one thing. He knew that what he'd had with the knight was in the past. He _knew_ it. . . and still he tortured himself with yearning, with watching him with that gaze and having his heart tear into pieces.

 "I'm sorry," he breathed softly, touching Allen's face briefly. "I should go."

Allen smiled softly to his friend, brushing his fingers against the other's face softly before he nodded.  "Make sure to get sleep," he murmured, looking sightlessly over at him.  With that, with fond memories resurfacing, Allen slipped quietly inside the room and lay on the bedroll set up for him with a soft sigh.  He could hear Celena's breathing... and he was sure she could hear his heart racing, pounding against his chest.

 Allen had not necessarily moved on past Gaddes.  He couldn't.  Gaddes would always be special to him.  

 But Celena...

 She rustled lightly beneath the blankets, moaning a bit as she tried to take a deep breath but couldn't. Silent tears slipped over her feather soft cheeks without so much as a sob passing her lips.

Allen shifted over closer to her, nestled up close to her and tentatively reached ou, trailing his fingers up her neck to her face.  He felt the tears, frowning a little, brushing them away carefully.

Her eyes opened, but it was pitch black in the room. She felt hands on her face, and would have been afraid if it weren't for that familiar smell of rose water. For some reason, she'd been crying - she suddenly felt her cheeks all wet with tears. Then she remembered her dreams . . . because she finally started to dream again.

 "Allen," she choked sadly, "I had a bad dream."

Allen drew her close to him, huddled against his narrow chest.  He kept an arm about her waist, brushing her tears away softly.  "Only a dream, Celena, nothing more."

For all his effort to keep her face free from tears, more came unbidden. She let out a little sob, trying to come to her senses from the intense emotions she'd felt in her dreams. "It felt so real. I was so scared." she said, burying her face in his chest.

He took up stroking her hair softly, resting his chin against the top of her head.  "Just a dream, Celena, but I'm here.  I'll protect you."

"I thought I'd lost you," she breathed out sadly.

"You won't.  I'll be here, I promise..."

"I thought you died," she cried, "You died in my dream. In my arms. . . Allen, don't die. Please, ever. Gods, there was so much blood." Her eyes hurt from letting out so many tears, but she clutched her brother close, afraid to let him go, to find out that he might not be real after all.

Allen smiled, pulling her close, holding her.  "I won't.  I'll protect you, I'll stay with you forever."

Her body shook, and she rubbed her face against his chest as the salty tears still fell. . . though it wasn't too long after that they'd finally began to wane. Pretty soon, the only thing left from the dream was the heavy, dull ache in her heart. She loved it when her brother held her, so that in and of itself was more than comforting.

 "It was such an awful dream," she took a few shuddering breaths, having felt a bit more ease in her breathing lately. "I don't think I want to sleep right now."

"Don't think on it, Celena.  It was just your illness playing tricks on your mind."  Allen brushed his lips against her forehead, a faint smile on his lips.  He reached up, tracing fingers over her face lightly, that smile lingering.

Celena, of course, did not move, and smiled slightly as her brother touched and felt her face. "What are you doing?" she asked softly.

"I... can see you like this."  His thumb brushed over the bridge of her nose softly, tracing along her jaw and cheeks.  "Hitomi showed me earlier..."

"You can? With your hands?" The idea was adventurous to her, new, innovative... being so minded, she could not help the grin that crept up to her lips. "Can I try on you? It's pitch black in here."

"You can," he murmured, smiling softly.  Beautiful.  Absolutely beautiful.  "You should grow your hair out, he murmured, "even just a little."

"It's easier to keep this way," she argued quietly, running her own fingers across his face, his chin, and his sharp nose. Her fingertips moved over the bridged of his nose and slowly worked their way up to his velvety eyebrows, moving down the sides of his face to feel the incline of his cheekbones, and over the beautiful lips which she longed to kiss. 

 Allen smiled softly, but didn't argue anymore about it.  Just a suggestion was all.  Her skin was so smooth, her frame so dainty.

"Allen," spoke the girl hesitantly, "I - I always meant to ask you but felt it might have been too sensitive. . ."

"What is it?"  Allen had his moment of contentment, that smile on his lips, nestled so comfortably close to her.

"Well, I was looking around - and it's completely black. There's no windows in here," she said, taking a breath, "is that what you see all the time? Pitch black?"

"I see nothing at all, except for what is in my mind.  Never anything but."

"Not even black?" 

Allen shrugged slightly.  "There is nothing to see.  There is only darkness."

Celena rubbed at her moist eyes, "So you see darkness?"

"That is all, yes..."

"Is it lonely?"

He nodded a bit, a faint smile on his lips.  "Very, sometimes... I'm left to myself all the time.  No matter if others are around, I am alone."

"I would get lonely too," she said, cuddling up close to her brother, "if I was left in this room all day."

Allen nodded a bit, holding her close.  "Yes.. I'm sure you would.  Down here is hardly very friendly or accommodating."

"_You're_ friendly and accommodating," she smiled, starting to feel better after three weeks of having been ill after that horrible river incident.

"I'm glad you think so."  Allen brushed his lips against her cheek, once more pulling her close.  "Now go back to sleep, I will guard your dreams for you."

"No, no," she insisted, her fear returning suddenly and clinging to him again, "I don't want to sleep. I don't."

"You need it, Celena, and so do I."  Allen smiled, arms around her comfortingly.  "Calm down.."

She would have protested again, but Allen's arms around her felt so very comfortable and warm. Even though she tried in vain to stay awake, it didn't take long for her to nestle into the curve of his shoulder, her hands reaching to feel the muscles of his chest. She never wanted to leave this spot, just stay like this and sleep for the rest of her life - with Allen.

 "Don't ever leave, please, Allen. Don't die." she pleaded softly, slowly fading away into slumber.

Allen found himself quickly slipping into asleep, his body thankful for the rest.  He was asleep soon, his arms around her protectively, sleeping silently with dreams he would not remember.


	17. To The Ends of Gaia

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**To the Ends of Gaea**

In the morning, Allen refused to get up until Celena had woken.  When she did, he once more donned the proud Caeli uniform, out of the dirty, bloody clothes from the day before.  He seemed in far better spirits and was getting dizzy less.  Wandering about the halls, long hair drawn loosely back.  He'd been doing that sometimes recently.  he was silent as he walked, but rather content.  The night had proved uneventful.  He'd spoken with Van for a bit about the strategies, the precautions they were all going to start up and after that, Allen had pretty much nothing to do.

That is, of course, until Hitomi finally found him. She couldn't run in the dress that she was wearing, mostly a status symbol for being Queen -- she leaves the crown off when she can, as it tended to poke her scalp -- and lightly touched his arm. "Allen," she said, "Are - Are you busy?"

Allen cocked his head to the side slightly, turning his head towards her.  "Of course I have time for you if you need me.  Nae, I'm not involved in anything at the moment, what is it?"

"Well, I thought you wanted to start learning how to use the pendant," she began, a bit confused that he'd forgotten so soon.

"Oh, of course."  Allen smiled softly.  "It had just seemed as if something was the matter."

"No, no." said the queen hastily, smiling to him. It must have looked strange, though, she had to admit. She hadn't really heard of any queens that would take off running down the hallways -- for _any_ reason. "I was thinking we could start off a little before dinner, is all."

"Oh, certainly.  I'd appreciate it very much."  Allen smiled softly, nodding to her.  He did seem much better than he and the day before, seemed more himself in the uniform.

"Okay!" But then she looked a little confused, looking around, outside the window, behind her. "Um . . . how should we do this?"

"I'm not sure."  Allen chuckled a little.  "Well... how did you do it with Van?"

Hitomi shuddered when she remembered their first lesson. "He woke me up at the crack of dawn to go outside and look for Merle with the pendant."

"Hm... well, would there be a way to do something like that?"

"What do you have in mind?" Hitomi asked.

"I'm not sure, to be honest.  I'm sure there's someone around here doing nothing, there always is."

The queen blushed and smiled. "What about your sister? Celena?"

"It's possible."  Allen nodded slightly.  "Just so long as there isn't some kind of strenuous activity going on.  Which I doubt there will be."

Strenuous activity? she thought to herself. What exactly happened to Celena to render her so - helpless. "I . . . don't think it will be strenuous for her, no. I think I'm getting an idea. Is there a large room we can use?"

"There's several.  We could use the hangar where the guymelefs are kept."

Hitomi agreed, moving ahead of Allen so that he would meet her there. Celena was just starting to sit up in her bedroll, about ready to attempt getting dressed and walking around when her brother came into the room. He seemed - excited. "You look happy," she said.

"Are you dressed?  I'd like for you to help me with something."  Allen smiled softly, waiting for her.

"Hang on, I'm about to get naked," she grinned at him, pulling the cotton night gown off and reaching for the dress that Gaddes had thoughtfully brought for her - another warm garment of wool tweed and cotton, with more ribbons that she would have liked, but it was her only choice.

Allen smiled a bit, nodding to her.  When she was ready, he took her hand and turned, leading her down familiar hallways to the hangar.

"Slow down a minute," panted Celena, tugging him to a stop just before reaching the hanger stairs. She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, or trying to, and wiping away at the thin sheen of sweat that formed on her brow.

Allen paused, resting a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.  He waited patiently for her to catch her breath, to calm down, worried.

"Sorry," she grinned, clutching at his front. 

"Dont' apologize, you can't help it."  Allen rubbed her back softly.  "let me know when you're better..."

For a few more moments, she gasped for small breaths of air, cursing herself for being so weak. Was this how her brother felt, she wondered. Celena leaned on him, pressing her cheek to his front, catching her breath. Slowly at first, before being able to calm her racing heart and take deeper intakes of precious air. He was always so warm when he held her like this, she would think, content with staying there for a few moments longer, using her refreshed lungs to breath in his foppish scent of roses and powder.

 "I think I might be better now." she said, looking up the blue and gold front of his Caeli uniform, "What is it that you wanted me for again?"

Allen just smiled softly, taking her hand in his, turning and leading her down the hallway to the hangar.  "To help Hitomi and myself."

"Doing what?" she asked, letting him lead her - which was odd but not uncommon as of late.

"It's hard to describe it if you haven't seen it.  You picture something in your mind and by doing that, can figure out where someone or something is.  Sounds farfetched... but Hitomi taught it to Van and both of them used it rather well."

A funny look came over Celena's face, almost the same whimsical expression she would get before any tragedy ever befell her and her family. She almost laughed, letting out an amused 'hmph'. "Sounds like magic. You're not trying to make a fool of me, are you, my knight?"

"We'll see if I can do it."  Allen chuckled a little.  "At first, I didn't believe in her mystics, but time and time again her tellings were coming true.  And I began to believe."  When he felt the familiar cool air within the hangar, he paused.  "Do you see her?"

"No," she answered after looking around, "You were supposed to meet her here?"

"I was."  Allen pursed his lips slightly, arching a brow, stepping a little further in.  "Hitomi?"

"I'm telling you, I don't see her here, Allen," said Celena, a little indignant with her hand on her hip. Her mouth was turned into a half-smile . . . almost a grin. "Maybe you should try using that magic trick you said you were going to learn."

Allen sighed, turning his head towards her.  "You know, one of the bad things about not being able to see is that I can't tell if you're lying or not."  With that, he started tickling her a bit.  None too roughly or too much, careful of how precarious her health was.

Her immediate reaction was always the same. A high, pleasantly lilting giggle escaped from her throat, coming from her chest and tickling her nose. She vainly tried pushing his hands away, but didn't trying very hard - she liked his games with her, and they had so few pleasures as of late. Moments like this were to be cherished. As a defense, she adhered herself to him like a barnacle, hoping that her tight, playfully crushing hold will force him to withdraw, but her girlish giggles betrayed her.

Allen laughed a little, drawing back and... reached up, ruffling her hair with a little grin.  "Munchkin.  That's what you are, a mischievous little munchkin."

Celena grinned, pushing her head gently into his hand when he touched her hair, nuzzling his palm. "Touch my face again, Allen. I liked it when you did that."

Allen smiled softly, brushing his fingers against her cheeks softly.  "It's still amazing to me, how well I can picture you like this..."  

"Maybe it's because you already know what I look like, cheater," she playfully admonished, poking him in the ribs.

Allen chuckled a bit, shaking his head.  "No... no, I don't think it's it, really. It's possible, but let me believe that what I speak is true."

"Aren't you supposed to be looking for Hitomi?" she asked again while he touched her fair cheek, "I mean, as much as I love you doing this . . ."

"Ah?  Yes, I should."  Allen sighed, nodding slightly.  Neh.  Now how to go about this?  Allen pursed his lips thoughtfully.

Celena, with one last kiss on her brother's palm, let her hands drop and she stepped away from him. She moved to the one of the guymelef docks, finding she needed to sit down on the steps as she was about ready to fall over. Hitomi was in fact there, hiding from Allen's sightless gaze with an amused look on her face. She had motioned to Celena, by pressing her finger to her lips, that the girl was not to reveal her location.

 Celena, of course, was delighted by the whole mystery of it. Magic, she thought. She remembered the stories of the girl from the Mystic Moon, her power to reveal the future - to see the unseen. They were like legends from a fantastic story book, much like the ones her mother used to read to her and Allen as children. It filled her with excitement, and so it was hard to keep her voice steady save for the giggles of intense amusement threatening to be released.

What was it that had been explained?  Picture her... recalling the way she looked in his mind as he'd felt her face, recalling the soft smiles, the laughter, that cute little way she blushed when he'd flirt with her... he focused on it all.  His eyes closed, though it didn't really matter per say, pretty head tipped slightly to the side.  He waited calmly, silently, envisioning the pendant that hung at his neck swaying softly as she'd explained.  But it seemed in vain.

 Allen was a patient man, however, waiting it out, continuing to focus.

There was hardly a sound in the hanger, and for both Celena and Hitomi, it was nearly too dark for them - there were only faint shadows from the torch-light coming in from the upstairs doorway, and in that faint light, the younger Schezar could see where Hitomi stood -- now sitting quietly in an unobvious spot against the wall of the large cavernous room. She had her knees drawn up to her chest, that same thoughtful expression, patient as even . . . she was very dedicated to helping her friend, it seemed.

 Celena figured that, because she knew she would have stood up by now and declared their game over from boredom. She sighed softly. "Allen?"

Allen sighed heavily, shaking his head.  "It's not working."  Allen was patient, but even still he had to have a point where he couldn't do it anymore.  

_Concentrate_, Hitomi thought, bowing her head as she too tried to concentrate. It would not happen this way on the battle field, she wasn't so naive to think otherwise. But she was determined to teach him how to at least see his enemies with his mind before he fought in any battle again. She would _not_ see him die needlessly. 

 _I'm here, Allen. Remember me? Hitomi Kanazaki - now Hitomi Fanel, Queen of Fanelia. Try to picture me in your mind, the pendant swinging, clearing the fog and revealing my hiding place. You can do it, I believe in you. Allen . . . _

Allen fell silent again, listening to her voice, remembering it.  He sighed a little, calming his frustration.  She believed in him, wouldn't that be enough?  Clenching his jaw slightly, forcing himself to calm down, he smoothed his mind over, his eyes still closed.  Focusing, following her instructions.

 It seemed like forever before he slowly turned towards where they sat huddled away, inclining his head in Hitomi's direction.  Did it work?  He could only hope.  He had no way of actually knowing.

Hitomi saw this, and lifted her head. It seemed like she perked up within seconds as she noticed he was turned toward her, like he was looking at her. Did he sense her? Could he see her there huddled against the wall. She could barely tell in the dim lighting, what might have been on his mind . . . he might have had reservations. Of course he would, she thought, he's never done this before. But as he faced her, she couldn't help but think, _not bad for the first time_.

Allen arched a brow.  "Over there.  Against the wall," he murmured softly, brow slightly furrowed after a moment.  Did he get it?  

Hitomi stood, her chin lifted regally, and she smiled. "Well done." she said.

His face softened, rather relieved.  A smile flickered onto his lips.  "Only because of your help this time, Hitomi."  

"But you did it, and that's what matters. You'll get better at it with practice. Van was able to shoot an arrow straight and true to the bulls eye by doing it. Maybe you can too, some day." She went to him and touched his hand lightly. "You did well."

 Celena came up to them, smiling as well, "It really is magic, isn't it?"

Hitomi laughed, "Something like that."

Allen smiled softly, clasping Hitomi's hand in his gently.  "Thank you, Hitomi... this means so much to me, you know."  Of course she knew.  She had felt helpless during the Great War, she'd wanted to help the others  And then she found a way to do it, to help everyone...

***

Hitomi was more than happy to help Allen develop his skills in dowsing, though the pendant he wore was little more than a trinket that dangled around his neck. It was really all she could do while she stayed at the fort. Many days passed, and there was no word of the Basram army marching yet - so they were safe for the time being. That was still no reason to be hanging about idly, as Van argued fertively.

 Fanelian reinforcements had come and situated themselves in the extra barracks wing, at least 300 strong, and most needed to be settled into the common rooms or the meeting hall just to have a place to sleep. While various plans were discussed for strategic defenses, Celena had more than once gone to find Hitomi to coax her into teaching her dowsing as well. . . without much success.

 "I don't understand. I try just as hard as you do, and I can't see anything." pouted Celena, sitting on Allen's bed. They finally got out of that uncomfortable little stone room, although Celena still found herself feeling much too fatigued to be moving about too much. It was nearly dinner time and she had *just* gotten dressed.

"I think, perhaps, it's because I need it.  I cannot see and that is an anchor for me.  It is a way for me to do something that I otherwise would not."  Allen smiled softly, shaking his head.  "You don't have a necessity for it.  You can see just fine the way you are."  Allen tugged the sash about his waist, pulling on an open coat, turning his head towards her as he walked the few paces to the door.  "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she nodded, standing up carefully. She took a few deep breaths, as it seemed that every time she stood, she got a little dizzy and short of breath. A few moments, and it passed. Her hand outstretched, Celena approached her brother and took his hand. "I have a question for you."

"Hm?  What is it?"  Allen opened the door, leading her outside of it and towards the mess hall.

"Do you suppose . . . that maybe it was meant to be?" She asked carefully, hugging his arm fondly.

"What was?"  Allen cocked his head to the side a little, walking with her, the murmur of the soldiers in the hall becoming a little louder as they drew closer.

"Losing your sight." she said simply, slowly down a bit as her breath began to leave her again. How _long_ did it take for lungs to recover from a bloody case of hypothermia and pneumonia? her mind screamed.

Allen slowed down as if on cue, shrugging slightly.  "I don't quite believe in fate, in something being "meant to be" as you put it.  If I believed in it... then what faith would I have left?"

Celena didn't answer, but only stopped as she quietly gasped for breath, forcing herself to breath deeply again. There was a sound in the air, muffled and shrill . . . coming from outside. "Do you hear that?"

Allen frowned slightly, nodding.  Resting a hand on the hilt of the sword Gaddes had managed to recover for him, the blonde waved a hand at her.  "Go to the mess hall and get Gaddes, tell him to meet me at the front entrance."

 With that, Allen tugged his arm out of her grip, turning and heading off quietly down the hall.

The shrill noise became louder, before the impacting into the walls of the fort with a mighty Boom. It cracked the floor, shook the walls, the whole building jarred, and Celena fell, losing her balance and crying out in surprise. There were more sounds of the cannon fire outside, this time accompanied by the thunderous footsteps of guymelefs.

Allen cursed, stumbling a bit at the impact and slipping off his feet.  he gritted his teeth a bit and stood, eyes narrowing slightly.  "Well, Van, you wanted to stop sitting around idly..."

Allen frowned, knowing it'd be stupid to stay at the entrance with all that going on and turned, heading quickly down the hall, quick, steady strides.

Frantic footsteps echoed down the halls as hundreds of soldiers poured out of the rooms, the mess hall, the meeting hall - some of them falling with another jarring impact of cannons hitting their fort. The ceiling began to crumble and knock dust from the wooden beams. It didn't take long for the cannonfire to become more frequent, almost sequential.

 The numbers were doubled with the Fanelian and Asturian soldiers joined together, their battle cries rising in a glorious cacaphony of glory and determination. Only stragglers were running down the halls now.

"Celena!" Allen cried out to her, shaking his head.  "Get below!"  He met up with Van by complete chance,  and the both of them silently agreed that they'd stick by one another as much as they could.  If they fell, their armies would crumble.  That much would be obvious enough.  Sword out of it's sheath, tip dipped toward the ground as he stalked out beside the younger, darker man... they made a dashing pair, really.  Both as proud as the other, as determined to win, to fight.

 "We have to get rid of the cannons and the melef units..."

"Right." said Van readily, running down the halls, down steps to get to through the meeting hall, but the passage was blocked, caved in. Van cursed.

 "Damn it. We can't go through this way." He said, turning them around to go back. "How can we get outside, Allen?"

"The hangar might still be open," Allen replied quickly, turning his head towards Van before sharply gliding off towards the room spoken of.  Hopefully it would still be open.

 "You didn't bring Escaflowne, did you?"

"I did," affirmed the young king, running as fast as he could with Allen following so close. Another jarring cannon ball impact made Van lose his footing and sent him flying forward. He landed with a grunt, hitting the floor and the wall as he skid to a halt.

Allen stumbled, frantically grabbing at the wall and catching himself on a doorframe, thought eh weight he fell with momentarily knocked the wind out of him.  The blonde coughed a little, frowning, biting back a groan.  He didn't have time for that right now.  "You alright?"

The fall had knocked the king's head hard, but nothing Van couldn't shake off with a few moments to orient himself. "The room's spinning, but I'll be fine." he said, trying to stand. "You?"

"Just knocked the wind out of me for a moment."  Allen nodded, pushing himself away from the wall before padding over to Van's side.  "Alright, let's keep going.  We dont' have time to waste."

"No kidding." he said, pushing up to his feet, careful to hold on to the wall to steady himself. "Escaflowne is next to Scherezade." he told the knight, "I was just hoping I wouldn't have to use him again."

"Undoubtedly.  It would be better if any of us didn't have to again."  Allen nodded slightly, heading off towards the hangar again, every once in awhile having to stop to either keep his balance or push away the dizziness that was slowly crawling back.  Though it seemed less frequent and strong.

Van was ahead of the knight, reaching the doorway and quickly running through, overpassing the stairs completely and landing swiftly to the ground. He only looked behind him briefly to make sure Allen was still behind him. "Hurry," he told him curtly.

Allen nodded slightly, picking up his pace slightly, using the wall to guide him.  His pace was brisk, though still careful, as always.  "How far along are the repairs to Scherezade?"  He doubted they were far at all, but he had to ask.

"The arm is still on supports." said the king, moving to Escaflowne and climbing the steps. He was rushed, his blood pumping with anxiety of battle. He didn't want to use Escaflowne again, not against supposed allies. He did not crave war or bloodshed - but if he had to protect his loved ones, his wife and friends - his _people_ . . . he would use it.

 As he climbed the steps so hurriedly, a thought occurred to him and he stopped, "Are you sure you can fight, Allen?"

"I have fought before, Van.  I will not stand back and let others die when I could do something about it.  If nothing else, I will distract them enough for you to take care of them.  Remember, the melef units and the cannons go first.  That's the only way we'll be able to fend them off."  If we can, this time...

 Allen turned sharply, jogging to Scherezade's front and climbed to it's legs, pulling himself inside nimbly.  Once again, the flood of familiarity came to him.  "Luck be with you, Van.  I'll see you when it's over."

"You too, Allen." said Van, climbing inside the Escaflowne and situating himself at the controls. With a deep breath, it powered up and the mecha stood, gargantuan and regal. "We'll see those Basram bastards fall before the fort walls before they reach here."

Escaflowne went out first and when he heard the melef pass, Scherezade stood, still one-armed, but effecient nonetheless.  Sword in hand, determined, the giant took booming steps forward, stepping out into the moonlight.

"Allen!" called Van from his cockpit, turning the head of his melef toward Scherezade. "I see a line of four melefs, down below the hill. Straight ahead of you, the wall is destroyed, you can get out through there. Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine!  I'll see you back there when this is all over!"  A one armed half-salute was given before the melef turned, passing through the space mentioned, then quickly recalling the layout of the land, headed towards the quartet of enemy melefs.

 He could only hope that both of them made it back.

The melefs were smaller than guymelefs - but there were four of them, and only one of Scherezade. Not to mention having both arms on their armors. Spotting the Asturian guymelef, the giants barked orders among themselves, watching as the mecha approached. They quickly spread out, ready to surround the single guymelef and take it down with crima-swords.

Allen murmured a soft prayer, hoping that the others would win out, that they'd prevail.  How could he win out against four units like this?  Blind and with the unit one-armed... he wasn't sure he stood a chance.  But he wouldn't give up.  He was ready when the first attack came and he turned, using the missing limb to his advantage, and the strike fell a little short, only grazing the side of the armor as the sword was lifted to meet the approaching blade from a second unit.

These melefs didn't waste any time, using their crima claw to melt and grab onto some part of Scherezade. The scene was familiar, as the Asturian giant was surrounded and now captured and immobilized, while three held it with the hot liquid metal of crima. The melef that had withstood Allen's arching attack had been successfully knocked back. Another melef came rumbling down the hill from the fort.

 "Coming, boss!" yelled Kio from his cockpit in the Asturian melef.

"Thank _someone_," murmured the night, gasping at the heat.  The armor would melt.  The open wires would spark, anytime now.  Allen struggled against the stronger melefs, jaw clenched.  He wouldn't relent, that much he made clear enough.

Kio charged the one melef that was closest to Scherezade's malfunctioning appendage, bringing the sword down with a thick clash against the crima, breaking the lethal streams that had held Allen's face plate and sending them flying. Kio made another quickly move, swinging the sword around in an arc and crippling the melef, both of the armor's legs now twisted and broken - hanging on only by wires.

 "There's still two more, boss! Behind you!" yelled the soldier.

Allen nodded, turning the melef sharply, broadsword arcing at the closest one at his back.  The parry was quick from him, but Allen felt a surge of vengeance surge up.  These men were destroying his home.  With a guttural cry, he shoved the blade point first into the main body of the melef before him, hearing it begin to short circuit.

Kio released a strangled, frustrated cry - the first Basram melef that Allen had knocked back had gone unheeded by the large barrel chested soldier as he fought the other remaining melef. It struck Kio from behind, pulling the soldier's armor to the ground harshly and knocking him about the cockpit. Still on the ground, he held up the sword, blocking an oncoming attack of the melef ahead of him, the one behind heading for Allen.

Allen's eyes were closed, his attention turned to the second melef that had been at his back before, parrying and slowly easing into the offensive.  Gaining ground easily, the blonde pilot rather swiftly disabled that one.

 Only to feel the other one's presence too near him to react.

 Again, the screech of metal, though nowhere near as horrendous, as the wielded blade was shoved through the neck of the melef, crashing out the front of the helmet. While the blade had missed Allen, it was difficult, damn near impossible to tell.  Scherezade was hunched over on a knee, going still.

 The knight's heart raced as he had felt the cockpit begin to crush with the force of the blow and he'd been more than sure he was going to die.  More than sure.  The gash at his shoulder was rather deep and his right arm had been caught up in the folding metal already weakened by the heat of the earlier attack.  One of the pieces of the grating had been jarred loose and when the sword was victoriously withdrawn, the exceptionally heavy shard was tugged with it.

 Allen's cry of pain was muffled by the shock that jolted through his body as a leather-clad thigh was painfully impaled by the thin, but jaggedly sharp piece.  His shoulders slumped, tears of pain flickering into his eyes as he neared unconsciousness.  His mind was trying to protect him, trying to force him to shut down before he panicked.

Awkward footsteps of an additional melef was heard, taking irregular steps, but growing in pace as the pilot seemed to be learning the controls as it worked. Soon, the melef was nearly flying down the hill, charging right into the Basram armor that had taken down Scherezade. Kio was still on the ground, and he managed to drive his sword through the energist crystal at the Basram melef's middle. The new pilot seemed intent on Allen's surprise attacker, however.

 Screams of anger, more than battle cries came from the Asturian giant, hitting the surprised Basramese with a dull crima sword. 

"Leave him alone!" echoed a female voice from inside the cockpit.

Allen would have reacted to the voice had he not been trying to stay awake.  Had he not been focusing on the reek of blood that spilled onto the floor of the cockpit.  With the shaking ground as the heavy steps of the melef unit approached, the grating in his leg shifted, causing flashes of pain to jolt through him and he whimpered, yet more tears of pain slipping from his eyes as he was tugged back from his near unconsciousness.

 The smell was heavy, thickening, oppressing.  That was his blood, his mind reminded him over and over. His arm hurt, the appendage immobilized by the bent up manner of the metal. Kio had managed to get up on one knee while the downed melef struggled with his blow. He brought the sword point up, aimed it over the panels of the Basram melef's chest and pinned it through like a fly in an insect collection. 

"Stay in there a while," said Kio, venom dripping from his angry tone. He had to help his boss, releasing the panels that opened his own melef.

 Celena was in the additional melef, still battling the Basramese and holding up pretty well on her own. She can do almost anything if she held enough determination. The ground quaked beneath their thunderous steps, giant footfalls that shook everything inside and out of the body. Kio had to regain his equilibrium more than once before making it to Scherezade, quickly studying the damage and pulling on the shards to open the face plate.

 "Boss, boss!" said the big man frantically, "Where are you hurt? Quick! We need to get you out!"

Allen groaned weakly, the face plates shuffling open lazily, the damage done unto them rather extensive.  Getting Allen out would be a problem, no doubt.  The blonde had slumped forward, the movement tugging on his trapped arm, but he didn't seem to notice, his opposite arm hanging limply at his side.  The piece of grating  was stuck rather good in there, the majority of the blood leaking from that wound, idly dripping onto the floor wetly.

Kio, being the strongest and largest of any of the crew, was able to pull away the faceplates nearly all the way - with a few desperate, experimental tugs. In doing so, he was able to reach in passed his captain's slumped form, searching desperately for the release on the panels. Hydraulics working harshly, they reluctantly slid open. The knight's arm was pinned and held fast in the interior of the mecha. Kio wouldn't dare to pull on it, with all the blood that was already seeping from the gash at his captain's shoulder. 

 "Boss!" he tried again, knowing how important it was to try to keep his captain awake, "Come on, boss. Wake up!"

 Celena, meanwhile, had begun to slow down, the Basramese overtaking her, the distant sounds of hundreds of men battling in the distance were vaguely aware by her. The melef was driven to her knees, her breath starting to catch. Just as the Basram armor was about to drive it's sword right through the interfering melef, Celena - feigning weakness, brought her sword up to block just at the last second.

 The Basram melef stood, astonished for but a second, before the blocking sword found it's way deep into the energist crystal on the melef's shoulder. With a hiss of steam, the melef fell backwards, jarring the ground once more with it's heavy impact. Celena, gasping, released herself from the cockpit, falling to the muddy, cold ground. Her brother - that's all that she cared about now that the melefs were all down or dead.

Allen shifted just slightly, groaning.  Not again..

The blonde cried out weakly as the shard was jarred again, as it shifted and in doing so, pulled at his leg again.  He didn't lift his head, though he was awake, his breathing shallow.  He coughed, the motion jerking at his arm painfully, an almost-yelp slipping from his lips.

Kio was still desperately trying to find a way to get his boss out, seeing the knight's sister running up to them, stumbling up to the kneeling Scherezade and staring in horror... all the blood - it must be a shock for such a fragile little lady, thought Kio. There was nothing he could do, not without help, and he couldn't very well ask Celena to help free the knight. Allen was firmly pinned inside. Frustrated, he jumped down to the ground, looking around to call out frantically to any soldiers that might be able to help them. There was no one around, everyone on the other side of the hill now, fighting to keep their home from burning - from being overrun by Basram armies.

 Celena, though horror-struck and sickened at the sight of so much crimson dripping from her precious brother, climbed as best as she could. Her breath was wheezing terribly, but she tried hard to ignore it. 

"Allen!" she said loudly once she'd reached him, touching his bloodstained face. "Allen, hang on! We'll get you out, okay? We'll get out of here somehow." The girl was too desperate, too determined to cry now - too many tears had been shed in vain before, and now there would simply be no time or patience for them.

"Ce-Celena... get inside..." he murmured hoarsely, weakly, lifting his head a little.  There were tracks of pained tears on his own cheeks, though for now none others were being shed.  A slight, faint smirk lingered on his lips.  

 "Don't... think I'll make it.  ...Sorry..."

"No!" she practically screamed at him, not caring if he winced at her tone or the harshness of it - the desperate underlying sadness seeping in it, "No! You won't die. I won't let you! We're . . . We're supposed to be together, remember?" She clutched at his front, grasping the blue fabric and twisting it in her panic, her face drawn close to his paling one. "Remember, together forever. You can't leave me! You _can't_!"

He leaned his head heavily against her shoulder.  "See you back at the fort," he murmured softly, delirious, shuddering as another wave of pain passed through him.

Her arms flew around his neck. She was very sure of one thing, and that was that she would not leave him there, not to die alone. Blind, in pain . . . no. She will not allow it. As he shuddered from pain, she closed her eyes tightly, praying silently, frantic for anything to happen to help them. For someone to come and save them. 

 _Save us! Save us, please!_ her mind cried out into the darkness of space, _Save us!_

"Don't want... to die," he muttered, coughing a bit, a little flicking of blood smattering against his lips.  He groaned, beginning to slip towards unconsciousness again.  If he could get there, the pain would stop...

Celena held him to her, this precious being, her knight who was so dear to her shattered heart. She didn't think it could break anymore than it already has. She heard his words, felt his shudder, but did not see the subtle glow and shine of the trinket around his neck. It grew in warmth against the knight's chest, and began to illuminate the clutched form of the siblings. 

 The light grew, the wind picked up fiercely, but not the freezing wind of winter. It circled them, enveloped them. There was light all around them soon enough, and Celena gasped. She felt lighter than air, her feet lifting - the blue-white light surrounding them was blinding. She still clutched her brother, but could see nothing. Nothing around her but the intense light, the feel of Allen still in her arms. She was scared, and screamed, cried out . . . There was nothing beneath her feet, she could see nothing.

Allen wasn't' sure what was going on--not that he did anyhow in that state.  He wasn't aware of the familiar glow that surrounded them both, but those who had been with him during the Great War knew more than well enough.

 They were losing their commander.

Kio watched the beam of intense light, wide-eyed. His stomach sank, his comrades just coming to them as they were lifted . . . like fair haired angels in each other's arm, the knight and the girl passing through the metal of Scherezade as if it weren't there. They all gasped, cried out in surprise. Only a few seconds did they have to stare at the amazing spectacle, before the beam vanished.

 The Schezars were gone.

Gaddes and the others stared in shock at what had happened, at the sudden disappearance.

 Allen and Celena were gone.  Who knew when or if they'd come back?  Gaddes felt his heart tug.  He couldn't protect them when they were gone.  He couldn't offer advice to them... Some small, selfish part of him was happy.  One of the last memories he would have of Allen, at least for now, would be that shared kiss that they had indulged in.  And this way, with their presence gone, it couldn't be ruined.


	18. From Gaia to Terra

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**From Gaea to Terra**

Santa Cruz, California wasn't a bad place to live. It's got the boardwalk full of rides and games, it's got the beach, it's got a nice downtown area, relatively nice rainy weather in the winter, warm in the summer. Not a bad place to be at all. The parks were always the most breathable places, and there were plenty of those. . . with forests not too far away in the hills. 

 Christopher was a tall, lanky brunette with his haired tied back into a shock of curly cues. He tried to be athletic, but usually ended up failing miserably. The basketball shifted in his hands, and he jumped, imagining the three point score -- only to be miserably disappointed when the ball missed the rim completely . . . in fact, it was *over* the backboard. Groaning, he gave chase to the rolling ball, ducking behind bushes and trees. It was just getting to evening, and after that last shot, he was ready to go home and give up for the day.

 He pushed deeper into the thick undergrowth, finding his ball but also something else. Chris nearly fell over from the shock. There in front of him -- a man, blond with incredibly long hair, bloodied and unconscious. A girl was with him, and she seemed to be knocked out too. The first thing he thought was that the guy had been mugged. . . if it weren't for the strange costume he was wearing. The girl too, although she was dressed more plainly, in some heavy dress. 

 "Holy shit," he breathed, dropping his ball and going to them, "Oh, my god. Are you guys alright?"

Allen was silent, blood and dirt smeared against the slick uniform, his leg, at least for the moment, useless.  Long shocks of blonde hair fell loosely about him, stained a deep crimson.  He reeked of, blood, his skin pale--paler than it really should have been.  He wore a sword at his side... maybe he was part of one of those Renn Faire things...

 Ethan was a little younger than his brother, his hair a pretty auburn-ish tint, falling straight--he'd gotten that from their mother.  Fair skin, slight build--yes, he got that from his mother, too--he padded up beside his brother.  "Hey, Chris?  You know what time it is...?"  For a moment, the younger boy didn't notice his brother's shock.  But when Chris didn't answer, the boy followed his brother's gaze.

 "Help us," said the girl, almost too softly to be heard. Chris could've sworn she was knocked out like the guy in the uniform -- it looked too military to be civilian clothing. Chris moved forward a bit more, crawling on his hands and knees - he was staring horribly, and he felt cold from the shock. All he wanted to do was play a little lousy basketball with Ethan, and he just *had* to stumble upon this horrific sight.

"Ethan," said Chris, not even turning to look at his brother, whom he felt was solid and stiff right next to him, "Ethan, we need to get help. . ."

"I... I think there's a pay phone nearby," he muttered numbly and stood there for a little longer.  The blonde's pained, weak groan pulled the boy out of his shock and he turned sharply, running to the phone.  His hands were shaking as he dug around in his pockets, dropping the quarters several times before he finally managed to get them into the slot.  Somehow, he managed to remember 911... then, in broken, panicked sentences explained the scene... and when he hung up, he dashed numbly back to his brother's side.

Allen was still out of it, not quite unconscious at the moment, but nearing it again.  "The... fort," he murmured, a shaking gloved hand grasping Celena's arm.  "Have to... Gaddes..."

"Allen, hold on," whimpered Celena, "Hold on a little while longer." She had her face buried into Allen's chest, not crying or sobbing, but just laying there - she looked like she was having trouble breathing, Chris noted. He kneeled a little closer to them.

 "Miss, help is on the way, okay? Just hold tight. Your friend's going to be okay." he said to her, but the girl didn't respond, still clutching the fabric of the man's uniform. He turned back to his brother Ethan, a look of horror on his face -- he'd never seen so much blood in real life before.

 "What do you think happened to them?" he asked.

"I... I don't know."  Ethan looked uncomfortable.  That much blood... certainly it wasn't a mugging, right?  The younger boy bit down on his bottom lip softly.  "But I... I hope they get here soon.  He's so pale... A-and... and there's so much of it..."

 Allen coughed a few times, wet, nasty sounding coughs, his eyes fluttering a little before he slipped back unconscious, barely holding on as it was.

Chris didn't even know what to think - the whole day was forgotten to him. He stared, even though he tried so hard not to. "It's weird . . . they don't look like . . . like they're from around here, do they?" 

"Maybe... there's one of those weird conventions around here?  I mean, they're... they're happening all the time. It's pretty plausible that someone might beat up a geek... right?"

Chris just shook his head. That couldn't be it. Not with the way they were dressed, it was so - unusual. They were too real to be geeky costumes from a convention nearby. His wounds . . . "Holy fuck, look at his shoulder!" he exclaimed, quickly moving right up Allen to pore over him. "It's a friggin' *gash* . . . like from a sword." 

"Only you would know that."  Ethan arched a brow, holding a hand over his mouth and nose as he drew nearer, cringing.  "God... there's blood everywhere..."

"Please," pleaded the girl. She finally looked up, her eyes were reddened from crying - but they were the most unusual shade of blue Chris had ever seen. So *vivid* . . . he gasped when he saw her face, beautiful and marred by such grief. "Help my brother! Help him!"

The older boy didn't know what to do, he sort of jumped back when she raised her voice, surprised. But with those pleading words, he decided. Chris took off his shirt, ripping the jersey knit fabric easily to make a tourniquet. "I don't think they should go to the hospital . . ." he began.

Ethan blinked, starting a bit.  "What?  But... we... we can't treat them.  We don't know what to do!"  He stared at his brother, startled.

Allen groaned softly, shifting a little, his eyes flickering halfway open for a moment, bloody, gloved fingers shaking as they grasped Celena's sleeve.  "Basram..."  He coughed again, rolling onto his side, the pressure on his injured shoulder making him groan.

"We'll figure something out." said Chris, who was already getting an idea of what to do. He would never be able to explain it. He just got a horrible sinking feeling in his gut that told him these people weren't just nerdy nobodys. They looked to attractive, for one . . . their clothing was too authentic, too course to be machine made in his world. Taking the torn fabric, he set to wrapping it around the man's injured shoulder, trying to ignore the groans of pain as he tied it as tight as he could.

"Take your shirt off and do the same to his leg, Ethan." Chris looked over at his brother, who only stared. So he hit him squarely on the shoulder, "*Now*, damn it!"

Ethan swallowed tensely, shuffling over to the injured man's side and crouching down.  He tugged the shirt off his lean body, tearing at it.  I just bought this yesterday... God, that sucks...

He set about tying off the rather impressive injury with the cloth in his hand, moth and nose buried in his upper arm to keep from being overwhelmed with the scent of the blood.  He felt queasy.  

"Oh my fucking God, Chris... it's like... like a hole in his leg."

"Don't think about it, just do it." Chris said. He looked over the man once more, trying to see anymore spots where blood leaked out, and thanking god that he found none. He put a hand on Celena's slumped shoulder, looking at her strongly.

"We live just over there," he pointed behind him to some town houses, "Can you come with us? We'll help your brother." Celena could only nod, and for the first time Chris noticed the curls around her head - she had *silver* hair. Like gray/silver . . . it only made Chris feel like his last minute decision had been the right one. "Okay. Ethan, go to the corner store down the street and get a sewing kit. Understand? We're taking him home."

"You sure you two can make it back without my help?"  Ethan stood, blinking a bit, loking at his brother.  At the nod, the boy turned and started running towards said store, tugging on the remnants of the shirt he wore.  It fell a little short of his ribs, now that it had been torn off, but with the fishnet shirt beneath it was easily passed off as another of Ethan's crazy little outfits.  

He grabbed a sewing kit and a few rolls of bandages and some rubbing alchohol, just in case, quickly paying for them before heading out, moving quickly back towards the house.

The guy had been light enough to carry - but Chris didn't get very far without the girl's help. She had walked across with him, her expression seemingly in a complete haze, even as he struggled with this man in his arms. . . he was not a soldier, and he only fancied himself to be athletic. His own body was skinny, but not lithe skinny - he was just inherently skinny. So, as it was, he had been able to lift the knight, just not carry him.

Celena, carrying her brother on his other side, could only walk and follow the young man who had promised to help Allen. She had had no choice, and she felt so tired of bloodshock that she didn't care. It was a short walk across a strange hardened field, some grass, an aesthetic line of bushes, before reaching more strange stone streets - *not* made of cobble, but some smooth material. The door had opened easy enough with just a nudge from the young man's shoulder, and Allen was finally settled upon the couch.

"The tourniquets seem to be working," Chris mentioned, feeling numb with panic but doing a good job control it. In the distance, he could hear the approaching ambulance that Ethan had called. The paramedics probably won't be happy to find nothing and no one there, thought Chris wryly. 

Ethan pounded his way up the steps, bag grasped in hand.  He saw the door partially open already and sighed, they'd made it back already, good.  He shoved open the door, shutting it behind them.

"I didn't know how fast you guys would get here," he panted softly.  Running wasn't his big thing... athletics in general weren't.  And then running in those boots of his.. yeah.  Ethan shoved the bag at his brother, running a hand through his hair.  "Got bandages and some rubbing alcohol, too, just in case we didn't have any.  Is he gonna be okay...?"  Ethan peered over his brother's shoulder at the man on the couch, frowning worriedly, then turned his attention to teh girl.

"There were too many of them," said the girl. Chris looked at her, staring when she finally spoke. Maybe she could tell them what was *really* happening . . . it was a fluke situation. Nothing like this could ever happen in real life, could it? The young brunette had to quickly snap out of his thought process so that he could work on the knight. The sewing kit and alcohol would be first, so he started working on the shoulder gash, pouring the alcohol on it straight from the bottle.

Allen jerked a bit, hissing softly, unseeing eyes flickering halfway open.  He didn't know what the burning sensation was, his mind barely registering it.  And this most certainly wasn't Scherezade.

"A-ah... miss?  What's... what's going on?"

"I don't know," said Celena softly, weeping. She was holding her shoulder, shaking from shock and . . . it wasn't cold. They weren't home, because home had been in winter time. "Where are we?" 

"Santa Cruz…,"  Ethan blinked, biting down on his bottom lip, looking at the woman.  She wouldn't know where that was.  She wouldn't, he could feel it.

Celena shook her head and was about to say that she didn't know where that was. She was on the floor of this home, a small quant little place with -- things -- strewn about everywhere. But she was mostly concentrating on her brother, on her hope to not let him die. Their clothing was strange, their speech was strange, but it wouldn't be until later that she realized she wasn't speaking Asturian, but what ever language these two men were speaking.

 "Is . . . is this --," she began, hesitantly, her eyes focused on Allen where he lay prone on the couch and being tended to by the one named Chris, "The Mystic Moon?"

"The... the what?  No... this is, um... this is Earth?"  Ethan blinked, looking confused, watching her.  His heart fluttered.  The Mystic Moon?  What in the hell?

Chris had broken open the sewing kit now and was just starting to close up the gash, his fingers shaking horribly as he pushed the needle through the man's flesh. There was blood on his hands, and it was certainly a sensation he wasn't quite used to -- the only thing that drove him was to save the guy's life. 

Allen winced a bit... awake.  The movements were tiredly lazy, weak.  He turned his head away slightly.  For a moment, he panicked.  Where was Celena?  He doggedly shifted, sitting up despite the careful attention being paid to his shoulder, brow weakly furrowing.  

 Ethan stared.  "Whoa, hey!  No, don't do that!"

"Allen!" Celena jumped, crawling quickly to his side and reaching his leg from where he sat on the couch. "You mustn't move, Allen. They're tending to your shoulder. Please, don't move."

Allen shuddered slightly, grasping her arm with his uninjured one, bowing his head with a shaky breath against the high back of the couch. 

Chris had been having enough trouble as it was, and his clumsy stitches were only tugged as the knight sat up. The young man had frantically tried to keep with the other's movements, but still managed to tug at the skin. "Ack, geezus! Hold still - I'm not used to doing this. Miss, could you tell him to hold still."

 "Allen, do what he says. Lay back down." she instructed, trying to stay calm. She supposed they would figure out the details later anyway. His grip on her arm was enough reassurance for her, and she removed it to take his hand, tugging off the glove. "You'll be alright."

Allen weakly settled back down, long hair falling about him, pooling on the floor.  He gently curled his fingers into hers, more than comforted by her presence.  It reminded him that he wasn't here alone.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Chris continued stitching the wound closed. Celena turned to the other young man, with the auburn hair. "My brother is blind. He does not know what's happening around him except by sound. He . . . must be more than a little frightened." She gazed sympathetically towards Allen, still gripping his hand, kissing it softly over the knuckles.

Ethan blinked, staring at him.  "H-he's... he's blind!?"  The boy looked surprised, turning his head towards Allen.  "But... he's got a sword!"

Chris remarked sarcastically, "Maybe we should call him Zatoichi . . ."

Celena arched a fine eyebrow. "Who?"

"He's... um, he's a blind samurai."  Ethan rubbed at the back of his neck nervously.  "Actually, he's a masseuse, but... yeah.  Never mind."

There was really little more that could be said about the situation. Chris simply continued stitching, working on the hole in the man's leg before using the sterile gauze to wrap both wounds. For being an amateur at healing, Chris had done a pretty good job. But Celena was completely impressed by his skill, going over Allen's cleaned and stitched wounds herself to make sure everything was perfect.

"You are an -- adequate healer, Mr. Chris." said Celena, looking up from carressing Allen's face.

"Uh - just call me Chris. That's my first name. And ... and this is Ethan. My brother." When Ethan didn't answer, Chris smacked his shoulder.

Allen had fallen unconscious again during the stitching, unable to keep himself awake for very long points of time.  His grip on his sister's hand loosened, head resting on the couch pillows.

 Ethan blinked... Allen sure did look different when he wasn't all bloody.  He was actually kinda... pretty.  He shoved back that thought awkwardly, biting lightly down on his pierced bottom lip.  his ears were covered in piercings, 7 on each ear, a twin tongue stud, lip ring and then his nipples and navel.  He'd just have to make sure he didn't get into any fights, he'd be out in a second.  "Ah... hello.."

Celena nodded to him, almost as if she were about to curtsey. She made herself comfortable sitting on the floor by her brother's side, holding his hand gently in her own. There was blood on her gray woolen dress, but it was not her own. Mud traced along the bottom hem, with several splotches in other various places. She was calm, finally - now that Allen would be okay. She just felt so tired. She wanted desperately to talk to these men. . . they must be on the Mystic Moon. Everything was so foreign around her, so strange.

She was barely able to take in her surroundings. The light was not fire, nor lit gas. But it was brighter than any candle she had ever seen, and it was hidden behind a hat shade on the table next to the couch. All around her there were clutters of paper books and containers with old food, letters on the parlor table, a upright piano of mahogany in the corner . . . it was all she could remember before falling asleep.

 Chris look at Ethan, taking the pony tail out of his hair and shaking his longish curls. "Are you as confused as I am?" he asked softly, noting that the girl was asleep.

Ethan shook his head, looking over at his brother.  "The Mystic Moon?  What is she talking about?"

"I'm terribly confused."

"Yeah." Chris swallowed. He looked up the stairs briefly, "Nicole won't be too happy when she wakes up. We'll have to tell her . . ."

"Yeah..."  Ethan frowned a little, shaking his head.  "Jesus.  I've never seen that much blood before, Chris... what do you think happened...?"

"I don't know - but nothing we can't ask them about in the morning. It's really late." he said.

"You think... we should sleep?"  He blinked a bit, looking at Chris.  He had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Or . . . maybe not." Chris said, rethinking what they should do. He was the oldest, and being so, it was up to him on how to protect their household. He nodded over to the T.V. "Wanna play Soul Calibur 2?" He sounded exhausted. He didn't really want to play video games right now, but there was no choice in the matter. They couldn't just let these two strange people sleep unguarded in their living room. 

"Uh... are you sure?"  He blinked a bit, looking over at his brother.  He understood... they'd play it to amuse themselves to keep awake.

Chris nodded quietly, turning on the TV with a very low volume, setting up the game. They played until their eyes couldn't even force themselves open, eventually Chris slumped into a chair, the Playstation controller loose in his hands. Ethan had fallen asleep on the floor, the television still on, the game showing the main menu of Soul Calibur 2. All of the blinds were closed in the windows, so sunlight didn't stream through to wake any of them.


	19. Freaks, Geeks, Rock 'n' Roll

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Freaks, Geeks, and Rock 'N' Roll**

Ethan was silent, curled up against the chair, head pillowed softly against it.  He was sleeping quietly, the controller still in hand.  They both looked cute, the haphazard way they slept.

Now, when Nicole woke up, she was a little groggy. She was a short girl, somehow inherited a stray gene that her tall brothers were lucky enough to have avoided. She was dressed in a powder blue terry cloth robe, and as she fumbled down the steps of their uncle's old town house, she raked a hand through her dark black hair. Eyes half open, she barely got halfway down the steps before spotted the stranger on the couch.

Now, you have to give a girl some credit where its due -- which wasn't the case with Nicole. Her scream seemed loud enough to knock two birds off from a near by branch and several dead insects off the walls outside. 

Ethan jerked awake at the scream, tensing, sitting upright, wide-eyed.

Allen started, the sharp motion pulling at his shoulder and leg and he promptly groaned, curling up a little.  Ow.  The movement hadn't helped him at all.

"Whoa!" was the first thing out of Chris' mouth, rubbing his eyes scrambling up out of the chair to meet his younger sister on the stairs, trying to calm her. Nicole's outburst was brief, thankfully, as it was quite sobering from her grogginess to scream like she did. She quickly calmed, gulping.

 "Who the hell is on our couch?" she asked, and Chris began to explain things slowly -- at least, the best extent he could given what little detail he had on the matter.

 Celena was awake, startled as much as her brother, and she saw him curled up in pain. "Allen, don't move." she told him. It was all she could do to comfort him, not even knowing where they really *were* . . . 

 Chris turned back to her, his sister sitting on the steps and trying to calm her heart palpitations. "It's okay. This is our sister, Nikki."

Ethan stood ad padded over to Allen, frowning a little.  He rested a hand on the blonde's uninjured shoulder, worriedly.  "Hey... don't... don't move much, okay?"  He glanced over at his sister, biting down on his bottom lip softly, nervously playing with the tongue piercings.  "Nikki... are you okay?"

 Allen's voice was soft, weak, but still... friendly, of course.  He was Allen, after all.  A woman?  Well, then...

 "My apologies, miss... for frightening you so.  Wasn't my intention at all, if you must know..."

 Ethan just stared at him.  He'd been bleeding all over the place and here he was acting like that?

Chris came back downstairs, his sister stayed sitting on the step before quickly excusing herself with, "I'll have breakfast later." The tall boy sighed, coming next to his brother.

 "Well, that was fun. Hey, um . . . man. You're name's Allen, right?" he asked of the knight. All of this was just too weird, and he couldn't stop staring at their costumes.

Allen lifted his head slightly, nodding.  "I am... Allen Schezar, Knight Caeli."

 "...say what?  Hey, Chris?  I told you they were from a convention."

Chris rolled his eyes at his introduction, but Celena reeled on him. "He speaks the truth! He is a knight of the royal house of Asturia." Now, Chris was always one for the fantastical - having read plenty of fantasy fiction and collected swords, fancying himself a knight . . . This young man on his couch, who looked a couple years *younger* than him, claimed to be a knight. 

And if it weren't for the fierceness in Celena's voice, the stern look in her eyes - her eyes, my gods, he thought. They were so strange. So incredibly vivid, and really rather beautiful. No, if it weren't for her, he probably would have passed it off as a silly convention persona - if it hadn't been him that stitched up those wounds, which were so real, staining his hands with blood - he probably wouldn't have believed her.

 As it was, he stopped, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. "I think he's telling the truth."

"Of course I'm telling the truth."  Allen straightened a bit, arching a brow.  To think... that someone was accusing him of lying about his knighthood?

Ethan chewed idly on a piece of gum he'd fished out, slowly glancing at his brother.  "There aren't knights anymore, Chris, not like he's saying.  Not like... sword wielding, dragon slaying knights."

"...I am no dragonslayer."

"He says he's not a dragonslayer." answered Chris sardonically. "And you're his sister, right? What's your name then?"

Celena started a bit, quirking an eyebrow and standing up proudly. "Celena Schezar."

Allen frowned slightly, turning his head slightly to the side.  Slaying dragons... that wasn't his duty.

"Ah, so... where... um, where are you two from?"

"Santa Cruz, California." said Chris scathingly, looking at his brother with a grim disposition. "Listen, buddy - could you tell us what the Mystic Moon is? Your sister seems to think we're on it."

"The Mystic Moon?"  Allen frowned a little, shaking his head slightly... forcing himself to focus, remembering things Hitomi had told him about the place.  Ah!  An easy way to tell.  "Is there some place called... Japan, here?"  Allen cocked his head to the side slightly, waiting.

Chris sat on their poorly kept coffee table, making the wood creak in protest under his weight. He was amazed, by this strange encounter. The wounds, the questions - the eyes. They cannot be of this world, and Chris knew it in his heart. "Japan is across the Pacific Ocean. Yes, it's here. You're in the United States of America."

"By the gods... it is the Mystic Moon.  Celena, this is where Hitomi is from.  Well, not right here, but... this planet."

"If you saw the things I'm seeing, Allen," Celena said, settling once more beside him, "It is definitely not of our world. By Jechia, how did we get here?" She seemed upset - she didn't want to leave her home, Asturia, the crew . . . the fort! "Oh, gods, Allen - the fort. The men. What do you think happened to them?"

Allen stiffened, scowling.  "We have to get back.  We have to get back.  Gaddes and Van... everyone.  They can't beat back Basram alone..."  Allen groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

"Hey, take it easy. I just finished stitching you up and I *don't* want my fabulous handiwork reopened." admonished Chris to the knight, since he was obviously older than he was. "Look, your sister mentioned that you can't see, so it's probably best if you just stick around for a while."

"I've been this way for over a year.  Hell," he murmured softly, frowning into his hands, "Palas is going to get ransacked... Millerna... at least she's been warned..."

Chris honestly had no reply to all these names and places the young man was mentioning. He looked to his brother, struggling to say something in response, but all he could come up with was, "I think my brother and I'll start making some breakfast. You guys must be hungry."

Celena's eyes narrowed, "I am *not* a guy."

"Oh, um... it's a generalized term.  H-he wasn't meaning that you're male.  He was just... referring to both of you..."

Allen smiled softly... he was a lot more comfortable with these terms than her, after all, he'd been around Hitomi.  "He's right.  Hitomi used to say it a lot..."

Celena growled slightly but said nothing, watching the two  young men hastily leave them to make the morning meal. She turned to her brother. "Can you sit up?" she asked.

Allen shook his head slightly, sitting up, waving away her efforts of help.  "Why are you so angry about it?"

"I - I don't know," admitted the girl quietly, "I just didn't like being called that, is all." She looked over her brother's frame. He was clean now, save for the stains on his uniform, the severe rips where his shoulder and thigh had been injured. She sat next to him on the couch, his hair was matted with dried blood, caked on the side of his head. "Can you stand?"

"I'm not going to push it.  Not with this leg I won't be able to.  Just don't get so upset about things..."

"Allen," she began truthfully, "I don't think we should stay here. . ."

"I've already said it, Celena.  We have to get back."

"But how?" She demanded, a little too loudly, and ignored Chris when he poked his head in from the kitchen.

"If I knew, Celena, I'd be working towards it."

"Well, don't get mad at *me*." she seethed, "All I did was try to keep you awake when your pendant started glowing . . ."

"Then that's what it was."  Allen pressed a hand to his chest where the pendant hung.  "It has to do with the pendant."

Celena rolled her eyes, "Then make it work. Make it take us back home."

Allen sighed softly, forcing himself to stand, shuffling carefully, painfully away from the couch.  This was irritating.  They were already snapping at one another.

"Well?" She demanded, not bothering to describe the geography of the strange room -- to hell with his blindness. They needed to get *home*!

"Like hell you demanding it like that is going to get it any further, Celena."  Allen sighed aggravated, running a hand through his hair.

"I want to go home." she choked, "Gaddes . . . the others . . . What if the fort's fallen? And Basram is probably marching towards the capital!"

"You think I don't know that!?"  Allen pressed a hand to his chest as a faint flash of pain, one besides the throb from his leg and shoulder, jolted through him.  "You think I want to leave them there!?  Those men are my life, Celena, and I've just left them to die.  You can't even imagine what I feel like right now."

She stood, clutching him desperately around his middle. Now she would let the tears fall, and they came readily like rivers along with choking sobs. "I don't want to be here. I'm frightened. It's so strange here. We have to save the fort . . . I don't know what to do, Allen."

"And you think I do?  At least you can see this place.  I can't even do that."

"We should leave here." she told him softly, wiping away at her tears.

"And go where?  I don't know how to get back."

Frustrated, and distraught, she pushed him away from her, "I don't *know*! Just somewhere!"

Allen stumbled, hissing and, thankfully, catching himself on the wall.  Lovely.  He groaned, taking the weight off his leg.  Well... that was nice.  He spoke through gritted teeth, eyes closed, slowly, barely reigning in his anger and frustration.  "I will not throw myself into another unknown.  Go if you so wish."

 "Then I *will*!" she said angrily, tearing passed him and leaving through the front door of the stranger's home.

Chris came running in after he heard the front door being torn open, skidding to a halt. "Where the hell is she going?!"

Allen turned his head towards him, still leaning against the wall.  What wonderful shape he was in.  "I don't know... I know you've already done much for us already, but could you, by chance, retrieve her?  She doesn't know any more about this world than I do..."

Women.  Women and their bloody tantrums.

"Already on it," said Chris, who grabbed a jacket from the closet so that he wouldn't parade down the streets while shirtless. He ran out the door, leaving Allen alone.

Allen sank down, but was caught by Ethan, who smiled, chattering on with him, helping him back to the couch.  "Don't worry about your sister... or Nikki.  I'm sure she'll warm up to you after a bit."

"Why should he have to worry about me?" accused Nikki as she came down stairs, dressed and ready. She was a cute little goth chick, as far as her brothers were concerned, fond of ripped fishnets, platforms and tattered skirts. She too, sported many piercings one ear, the other being adorned by a pointed ear cuff. Pale skin, black hair - her favorite color was black. She romped down the bottom steps and peered at her brother through her heavily lined eyes. "I know a weirdo when I see one. He just scared me, is all."

"He's not weird, Nikki, he's from another planet."  Ethan smiled a bit, then paused.  "...Nevermind, that does sound somewhat odd."

"I apologize again, miss, for frightening you so.  I hadn't intended it.

Nikki peered at Allen now, still narrowing her eyes and craning her neck - more from concentration. He didn't turn to look at her, or anything. "Are you blind?" It was really just a matter-of-fact question, and Nikki was very quick witted about those sorts of things. She watched people as a hobby downtown, when she wasn't working at the coffee shop.

Allen cocked his head to the side a little and gave a soft, sad-like smile.  "Unfortunately, I am.  There was a riot in front of the castle and... oh, nevermind."  

Nikki smirked, "You're wrong. I'm right. He's nuts." She walked away nonchalantly to a corner of the room that seemed to be heavily decorated with - various objects. Incense holders, jars of herbs, and a cloth hanging on the wall with Celtic knots on it. She lit a stick of Dragon's blood incense. 

Allen sighed, shaking his head slightly.  He held up a hand to quiet Ethan, smiling a little.  "I thought the same thing when Hitomi first came..."

"Did you guys make breakfast?" Nikki asked, going over to her brother and the stranger, pulling on Allen's arm to lead him to the kitchen.

Allen stood, wincing a bit, leaning on Ethan as they went in.  

"Yeah, we did," he smiled, speaking quietly.  He was the youngest of the three siblings... and he still wore that torn shirt of his.  He hadn't bothered to change since the night before.

"It's amazing. You actually managed to make something edible?" She asked, continuing to pull more than lead the poor blind stranger.

"Hey... Chris did it, not me."  Ethan smiled sheepishly, shrugging a bit.  "Hey, hey!  Slow down, Nikki!  He can't walk very well at all!"

"Why, he's just blind, not crippled." she said nonchalantly, leading him toward a table.

Ethan tugged Allen back, holding him to keep her from tugging him along.  "Stop it, Nikki... he's injured." Allen just smiled a little.  He did appreciate the comment.  Though, admittedly, he knew better.  He couldn't walk well, he knew that much.  And moving fast was out of the question.  He did blink a little at Ethan's protectiveness, though.

"How injured?" she asked impatiently, stopping.

"Well, he's got this... this hole in his leg.  like... straight through it.  And his shoulder has this huge gash in it..."

Nikki quirked an eyebrow. "Sounds painful." It's not that she didn't believe Ethan. She was just - a little morbid. The kind of person who watched operation shows hoping they'll show a good amputation once in a while. Of course, much to Nikki's disappointment, they never did. "Alright, move slower. Come on, table over here."

Ethan helped Allen into a seat gently, then slid into his own.  "Allen's a knight, you know."  Ethan smiled brilliantly.  After thinking about it, he realized that those two really weren't like them.  And that likely they were telling the truth.

Well, their family had always been a little strange. And all of them probably even *thought* at some point that if a strange person ever dropped out of the sky and claimed to be from a different world, they would probably believe them. Ah, fantasy is a wonderful thing. Now they had *two* people drop out of the sky and claim to be from a different world. After getting over her initial reservations, even Nikki had to admit that she was excited about the idea.

"Oh, yeah?" she said, "Our very own people from a different world, huh? Can we keep them as pets?"

Ethan's smile fell.  "What?  Nikki, they're people, that's horrible.  And from what I've seen, they're very nice people, too."  He rested a hand on Allen's uninjured shoulder and the blonde turned his head slightly towards him. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll adjust soon enough."

"I was just kidding, stupid," Nikki admonished, setting a plate of the so called breakfast that Chris worked so hard to . . . reheat. "Mmm, left over quesadillas. Well, I guess it's better than cold pizza." She sat down and grabbed one of the soggy quesadillas, biting into it hungrily.

Ethan pouted a bit, munching on the quesadilla.  That was mean...

Allen arched a brow slightly.  Even siblings reacted differently here.  Of course... he hadn't had the most normal childhood experiences.

"So, where are you from again?" She asked around a mouthful of food.

"Palas in Asturia."  Allen arched a brow a little.  She wouldn't know the place, but... nonetheless.

"Cool, cool." she said, nodding her head and finishing the soggy chicken and cheese filled tortilla in one bite. "Got a little banged up, I see. How'd that happen?"

Allen frowned slightly, shaking his head.  "One of the countries on our border took advantage of the fact that our king passed away and attacked.  The fort Celena and I were stationed at is right on those borders, just outside the swamplands.  A few of my men and I headed out to find one of the poachers that were there and we stumbled upon his body... and then they attacked.  We managed to beat them back the first time, though my guymelef was severely damaged.  The entire left limb was missing.

"The second attack, we thankfully had allies... and I had no choice but to defend the fort again within the damaged guymelef.  The helmet was crushed by the rather large blade that made this gash in my shoulder, and the damage to the face plates were horrendous.  Part of the grating jarred loose and, well... rather impaled my leg.  Excruciating, really."

Nikki, who was a cheeky little pain in the ass, grabbed a post-it note pad that was on a table with a nearby pen and furiously began to write notes. "Okay," she said without looking up, "So far, words I don't understand include 'guymelef' and 'Celena'."

Ethan pouted a bit.  "Nikki, stop being like that.  You're the one that asked him, you should listen to him without being so--"

"Really, it's fine.  I know how it is, facing someone from another world.  It's... unbelievable at first."

"What *is* your world called, anyway?" Nikki asked, scrutinizing him with her piercing black lined eyes.

"Gaia.  From there we can see your world, the 'Mystic Moon.'  However, Hitomi taught us that the name was 'Earth.'"  He seemed sincere about it, no hint of lying about him.  In his mind, at least, he was being utterly truthful.

Nikki huffed, giving her little brother a look, "This is a trip alright. You bitches are lucky I don't work today."

Ethan blinked.  "Why?  Come on, Nikki, don't just shove it off like that."

Allen made a face at the crude language.  A lady... using such words?  It was utterly disturbing.  

"I'm not shoving anything off." she defended, standing. "The truth of the matter is that he *is* hurt. I guess I'll have to ask how he knows our language later - didn't that occur to you? Anyway, he's hurt, he needs to lay down. I may be dark and morbid, but I'm not heartless you know."

Ethan sighed a bit, standing, tugging Allen to his feet.  The knight did, really, have a genteel air about him, calm and easy.. and unoffended.  Except for that last bit.  To think that a lady would use such unfeminine wording.  Wight a light grasp on the boy's upper arm, his weight slightly supported by him, he made his way back towards the couch.

"I'm gonna raid Chris' closet. The guy needs clothes that don't look like they're from Ren faire." she said, not bothering with plates and stocking up the stairs. It really wasn't too long after that when Chris came back with Celena.

 "Let - go - of me!" she struggled, the young man's grasp strong on her arm.

Allen lifted his head, frowning.  "Celena, come here..."

 Ethan blinked, glancing over at his sister as she retreated, sighing softly.

Indignant, Celena wrenched her arm free from Chris and quickly rushed to her brother's arms, clutching him fiercely, trembling. Chris gave a spectacularly heavy and frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair and throwing his coat into a nearby chair.

"She nearly got ran over by a car." he stated angrily, "Jesus fucking christ, I never knew a girl that could run so fast and then just stop right in front of a car."

Allen turned his head towards Chris, smiling softly, inclining his head a little.  "Thank you... I do appreciate the gesture.  I would have gone after her myself, but it's obvious why I could not."  The blonde cocked his head to the side slightly, confused.  "A... what?"

"Melefs . . . on wheels. They glide across the ground at super high speeds!" exclaimed the frightened and shaking Celena.

Chris rolled his eyes and looked at Ethan, "Speed limit's 35."

"Modes of transportation, then."  Allen pursed his lips softly and had his eyes not been dull with his blindness, they would have glittered with the chance of absorbing yet more knowledge.  

"Hey, Ethan," said Chris, walking up to his brother and touching his arm, "Why don't you put on a little music? Something soft." It was suggestion that came from Chris' cleverness and his psych degree. Though, it was nearly common knowledge that humans were inherently responsive to music. It might help calm them down, thought the boy.

Ethan arched a brow slightly.  Well, that certainly wouldn't be any of his music.  "Like what?  Like... Motzart or something?  Do we even have any of that lying around here?"

"Yeah, I'm sure we have something. Like, the new age stuff Nikki likes. Put some of that on." Chris said, starting to go back upstairs, "Meanwhile, I'm taking a shower. Ugh, I hate running in the morning."

"Oh!  Nikki's going through your closet, by the way..."  Ethan blinked a little, glancing over his shoulder.  He stretched a bit, standing and rifling through the CDs they had and withdrew something along the lines described.  He, himself, never really listened to that stuff... but nonetheless...

"What . . . what is it?" Celena asked softly once the music faded into her hearing. She lifted her head from her brother's chest, looking at the device that Ethan had used to play the music. "Where is that music coming from?"

"Ah, it's called a CD player.  Er... compact disc player.  There's music on one of these," he said, holding up a variety of CDs, "and there's a little laser inside the box that reads the music off the disc and plays it.  Or something like that.  I'm not really good at explaining these things."  Even if he did plan on making his living with his band, he still didn't know how to describe the workings of a CD.  

"Compact discus?" she asked tentatively, "And a - a laser? That *reads* the music? Can I see one of those discus?"

"Ah, actually, they're 'discs,' and sure.  But be careful not to touch the shiny side."  Ethan smiled, handing her one of his.  That way if it got ruined, it'd be his.  He was considerate that way.

"Describe it to me, Celena," Allen murmured softly, a faint smile on his lips.

Celena sat up, and examined the disc closely, being careful to touch only the rim of the little round discus. Her mouth hung open, her jaw working, biting her tongue, her lip, as she concentrated on how to describe such a thing to her brother. "It's flat, round - a discus, but thin and made of some extraordinary light material. On one side, it's shiny, and silver but it reflects rainbows on it's surface. It's really pretty!" She exclaimed, taking her brother's hand carefully so that he could hold the disc himself.

Allen grasped it lightly in hand, a smile on his lips, tracing his fingers along the edge of it, careful not to touch the flatter surfaces.  "And... this plays music, you say?"  

Ethan smiled brightly, nodding.  "It sure does."

"But I don't understand." she said quietly, looking closely at the shiny surface as her brother examined it with his fingers. "I don't see any music on it. Not a note, or a scribble. How can anyone or anything read just rainbows?"

"Well, there's, um... there's a machine that records the music and turns it into little files... and it... uh... yeah.  I don't really understand it."

Celena only shrugged, looking more confused. Then she sighed, touching her brother's head. "Maybe we should just take his word that it plays music. . ."

Allen smiled softly.  "I was planning on it.  He obviously knows more about it than we do."  Ethan smiled, taking the CD from him when it was offered, setting it aside.  

Celena settled herself next to her brother, getting comfortable. She let her thoughts fly around her head. She started thinking of the fort, of Gaddes - hoping they were alright. It was so strange, being home one moment, then on the Mystic Moon the next. How it happened or why it happened would probably be left unanswered. All she knew was that if they *hadn't* been transported to this strange place, her brother - sweet brother that he was - would have died.

And so now they're on the Mystic Moon, where Hitomi had come from. In a completely different country where she'd come from, but the same world nonetheless. Her concern would always stay with Allen, though. No matter how angry she would get, not matter how frustrated - she couldn't stay angry very long. She loved him, after all. And despite those few occasions where they really did act like siblings, she fancied herself to be his wife.

"Ethan," she asked quietly, thinking about her train of thought, about her brother. "May I ask you something?" Allen was silent, keeping to his thoughts, to his darkness.  He'd grown used to it by now... but in this familiar territory, his blindness would be yet more of a hindrance.  He sighed softly, turning his head towards his sister as she spoke.

Ethan blinked, glancing up.  "Hm?  Of course..."

"My brother - you know he cannot see." She began, sitting up again and taking Allen's hand. "What are blind people like here?"

Ethan cocked his head to the side a little.  "Well, um... they walk around with.. canes.  And they... where you come from, do they have Braille?"

"I don't know what Braille is, no." she said carefully, shaking her head. "What is it?"

"Well, it's the way they read."  He saw Allen perk slightly and he grinned.  "I don't know it, personally, but it's an alphabet made out of raised bumps.  When they're situated in certain ways, they mean different letters.  It's really neat"

"Allen!" she said happily, turning to face her brother. She had a beautiful smile on her face, and she bit her lip, "You'll be able to read here." Allen was already smiling a bit, nodding slightly.

"Ah... there are lots of things to accommodate people with... um.." said Ethan.

"Handicaps?" said Allen readily.

"Ah, yeah... I'm sorry.  I didn't know if it'd offend you or anything."  Ethan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.  "Well, anyway.  There are lots of things to help people with a variety of handicaps."

"I wonder what other marvels they have here." mused Celena, thoughts of home and battle slowly fleeing her mind. "Could you show us, Ethan? Like, - what religions are here - you have a corner that seems like a shrine. Allen, there's a symbol of magic upon one of the shelves. The five pointed star in a circle."

"Ah?  Well, I'm probably not the best person to ask.  That's all Nikki's stuff.  But, um... there's lots of religions.  Christianity and all the little sects that go with it, Judaism, Buddhism... there's a whole lot more, too.  I never was good at explaining this kind of stuff."

Though she was about to ask about marriages and the rules about them, Celena got her common sense back on track and silently made a mental note to ask Nikki later. . . hopefully she won't scream when she sees her the next time they meet. For the time being, however, Celena's stomach began to growl, and she rubbed her tummy, groaning. "Ugh, I'm so hungry."

"Oh, um... I think there's some quesadillas left.  They're... well, they're cold, but we can heat them up for you if you want."

"Kesa what?" she asked, scrunching up her nose at the thought of new and unusual food.

"Ah, it's... well, it's like... a tortilla with chicken and cheese inside of it."

"They're decent, Celena."  Allen chuckled a little, shaking his head.  "I've definitely eaten worse."

"Well, okay, I guess I'll have some of that kesa . . something or other." She tried to pronounce it helplessly, shrugging.

Ethan laughed a little, good naturedly, of course, and led her into the kitchen.  He heated one of them up for her, setting it down at the table when it was done.  "It's not the greatest food ever, but... well, it's better than I can do."

Celena held up the soggy flat bread wrap - thing, dripping cheese on to the plate. She looked over to her brother, her expression priceless in its disgust. "You wouldn't have eaten it if you saw what you ate."

"I'm rather sure I would have.  Believe me.  I'm sure I've eaten something that looked worse.  I was in the military."

"You?  For how long?"

"Ah... I was 16 when I was inducted into the knighthood."

"...and... um, you're how old?"

"24."  Allen sighed, running his uninjured hand through his hair.

Celena watched the exchange for a moment, before biting into the flat bread wrap hungrily, devouring it in mere seconds. Nikki came back down the stairs, her black platform boots clomping loudly with every step. 

"Found some clothes for the guy . . . Oh, another one." she said, seeing Celena. She came beside the two outsiders who sat on the couch. "Allen, right? I brought you some of my brother's clothes. He's about 6'3. Is that about how tall you are?"

Allen arched a brow slightly.  "Ah...?  I'm not sure, honestly.  I never asked the tailor my measurements, to be honest."  Allen shook his head slightly, smiling a little, almost apologetically.  Tailor.  Pair that together with the polite mannerisms, the knighthood and the neat manner about him--even with the torn uniform and the bloodstains--gave hint that he was, well... an aristocrat.

"Oh, shit." said Nikki, groaning - again with the quick wittedness. "You're a fop, aren't you?"

Celena smirked, trying hard not to choke.

Allen started slightly, lifting his head a little.  He ignored Ethan's startled cry.  "Nikki!  Be nice!"

 The blonde blinked a little, then smiled softly and, well... laughed.  He was sore, but that didn't really matter right now.  He was too amused.

"Yeah, I'll be nice." said Nikki scathingly, dropping Chris' clothes onto the couch next to the knight. "Just try those on. Pants and a shirt, pull over not button up - didn't know if you had problems with buttons."

Ethan glanced at his sister, then sighed, walking over to Allen and gathering up the clothes.  He helped Allen to his feet and into the nearby bathroom, leaving him with the clothes.  With a second thought, he paused, turning and walking in with him, telling him the colors and everything.  After all the knight was blind!  Ethan shut the door quietly behind him, walking over to Celena and offering a small smile.  "Are you still hungry?  We have more food..."

Celena nodded excitedly. Food, she thought, I love food. I never thought I could love food so much until now. "I am rather hungry," she admitted demurely, blushing at Ethan's kindness. Nikki rolled her eyes, going back upstairs to get some clothing for Celena from her own closet.

Ethan smiled, nodding and rummaging around in their cabinets.  "Um... do you like pasta?"

"Pasta!" Celena said, surprised. She stood and followed Ethan into the kitchen, peaking over his shoulder impatiently, "Pasta is a specialty in our country."

"Oh, well... it's nothing really fancy.  I can't cook well.  But we have ramen and I know how to cook that."  Ethan held up a pouch of oriental flavored ramen with a sheepish grin.

New words again, and it made Celena get that cute little confused pout. "I'm afraid I do not know what ramen is. We have pasta in many different forms in Asturia, though. I wouldn't have the slightest idea how to make any of it. I -- uh -- I burn water."

Ethan laughed a little.  "I'm almost to that, but not quite!  Here... I could live off this stuff."  Ethan grinned, walking over to the stove and getting the water ready, letting it boil.

She let him work around the kitchen, a quaint little place, with a strange looking stove. She watched him fill the pot with water - from the sink. Yet another marvel. "You have indoor water access? Like an apothecary!"

"Like a what?  Oh... we call them pharmacies, here."  He smiled softly, nodding.  "Yeah... we have all indoor plumbing.  It's really convenient."  He dropped the noodles in when the water was boiling, adding the seasoning when the noodles were softened, then poured it all into a bowl and set it before her.  "Ramen.  The only food, really, that I'll cook for myself."

She was handed a fork, and she stared dubiously at the bowl of pasta in broth. Slowly, she dug into the myriad of noodles, gathering a clump on her fork and shoving into her mouth. Her expression changed, noodles were hanging from her mouth and she slurped them up, humming and nodded to Ethan in approval.

Ethan grinned a little.  "You like them?  It's a good thing they're easy, too.  They've got lots of different kinds of flavors, too!"  He blinked at the sound of a door opening and peered out.  He blinked, then grinned again.  

Celena, curious, bit off the hanging noodles and let them fall to the bowl before standing, "What is it? Is Allen done?"

Ethan nodded, smiling.  "It looks odd to see him dressed like that after seeing him in the other clothes."

Allen was wearing black pants that were faintly larger than they should have been in the waist, settling low on his hips. The t-shirt was a dark, smoky grey color, fitted a bit closely, his hair pulled back.  He looked... more like a teenager, really.  

"He looks good like that," Ethan murmured, smiling a bit.

"Allen," said his sister, "You look so young." She went to him automatically, her hands reaching up to straighten the collar and shirt - not that it needed straightening. She was just used to doing it after helping him dress after he lost his sight.

"Do I get new clothes too?" she asked, turning to Ethan. She sounded much too excited for someone who had just come from a battle field the night before.

Allen smiled wryly.  "I feel odd without my swashbuckling boots."  It's what Gaddes had called them so long ago and the name, well... it fit.  He sighed softly, shaking his head a little.

Ethan grinned, shaking his head.  "You and Chris are a lot alike in build, it seems."

"Are these pants supposed to fall this low?"

"Wow," said Nikki, tromping back downstairs with yet another set of clothes, "He looks good. If blond were my type, I'd fuck him." she grinned to her brother, handing the flabbergasted Celena a black long skirt and a lacy bell sleeve button up shirt.

"I *do* beg your pardon?" Celena said, stunned and numbly accepting the clothing.

Allen arched a brow, starting slightly.  He wasn't used to such language from a woman... especially with such language was directed at him.

"Ah... yeah, that's... well, that's Nikki.  She's... um... vulgar."

"...but she's a lady."  Oh, and Celena knew all about his stance on all of that.  He'd ground it into her skull enough.

"She doesn't dress like one," whispered Celena into Allen's ear.

Allen sighed, shaking his head a bit.  How saddening.  How utterly saddening.

"Ethan, go take a shower. Goddess knows you need one." said Nikki to her brother, scowling and pushing him towards the stairs. "Chris should be out soon anyway."

Ethan eeped, glaring over his shoulder at her for a moment.  Geez, did she really have to be so pushy all the time?  The auburn-haired boy ran a hand through his hair, turning and padding off towards his room to snag something to wear after he showered.

Feeling accomplished with making her little brother go through his morning ritual, Nikki turned her attention to Celena and Allen. One hand on her hip, her tattered black skirt moving about her as she moved, "Go ahead and try those on. You can keep them if they fit. Free clothes is always a good thing." she said to the girl.

Celena took a step back with Nikki approached, only slightly frightened by the strange way the girl's face was painted. The only reason she hadn't completely run the other way, screaming, was because Allen was by her. She quickly nodded and went into the small bathroom from where Allen had emerged, and closed the door.

"Whew! What a productive day, so far." she said to no one in particular.

Allen sighed softly... then, using the wall to brace himself, made his way back to the couch.  He'd have to force himself to walk on his own.  Just like with his blindness, he knew he wouldn't be able to depend on everyone else for his entire life.  And he despised the thought of it, too.  Sitting down, he grasped the sword belt, tugging the main belt off of it and fitting it around his waist.  It didn't much help the fact that the pants were lowslung, but it was still kind of stylish.  And it kept them from slipping lower.

"Yeah, so . . ." started the girl, going to Allen. "I guess we should try to get you back home, then? That's usually what happens in the books I read. Character in a strange place, first thing they want to do is go home. Really kind of stupid. . . " she watched him work the belt, "You know? 'Cause, I can't imagine anyone wanting to come back here. But I guess your home's not that bad?"

"It is what I know."  Allen shook his head slightly.  "It is war-torn and full of sad memories and hardships... but the people there I know and I care for.  When we were brought here, it was in the middle of a battle defending the place I had known as my home for so very long.  I want to go back.  I want to know that they are alive, I want to know that Asturia is safe."  He clasped the belt shut, nimble fingers working it easily.

"Alright, Alex, we'll try to help you out." said Nikki.

"Allen," he murmured, shaking his head slightly.  Ah well, it really was no matter.  "So... tell me of this place, would you?  This city?"

"Ah, yeah, sure." she said, taking Allen's arm and moving him to be able to sit on the couch without falling to the floor. "Here, sit down."

Allen smiled softly, inclining his head towards her.  "Thank you..."

Nikki smiled slightly - and she was not typically prone to smiles. They sat and she took a breath. "Well, the city's name is Santa Cruz. The state is called California. The country is the United States, and the world, of course, is Earth. Good start, yeah?"

"How far is this country from Japan?"  He arched a brow slightly.  "That's where Hitomi was from, though I forget which city she spoke of."

"Japan is across the ocean. I don't know exactly how far, but it's somewhere like a fifteen thousand miles or more. I forget. We're on the coast that would be closest to Japan, actually. You know, they speak an entirely different language there . . ." she was almost sounding accusing, "How the hell can you speak English, anyway?"

"English?"  Allen arched a brow slightly... he just thought... "no, of course you don't know Asturian."  The blonde pursed his lips thoughtfully tapping his chin lightly.  "You know... that's a rather good question to ask."

"I thought so," she replied. When he brought his hand up, the movement made her follow her face to his chest, and she noticed the pendant. "Nice pendulum."

"Mm?  Ah... it was a gift from Hitomi."  He smiled a little.  "It originally belonged to my father.  But her grandmother came to Gaia, just as she did, and he gave her the pendant.  It was passed onto Hitomi... and then onto me."

"That's an interesting line of succession for an heirloom." she said thoughtfully, wondering how the girl's grandmother got into the whole mess of being transported to another world. She shrugged. Whatever the case, it was the past and not something to be dwelt on, "You know how to use a pendulum, right?"

"Not quite, to be honest.  She'd always kept it with her and it was only recently that I got it.  She hadn't had time to explain such things."

"Well, they're used for fortune telling. You can ask a pendulum a yes or no question and depending on the way it swings, it will tell you yes or no. Really simple, actually. Although, I don't know how you might be able to use it. It looks pretty around your neck, though." All of this was said, of course, in a straight forward, no holds barred manner.

"Well, Hitomi showed me in a far more indirect manner how to use it for a different purpose.  But fortune telling?  She had a stack of... mm, what did she call them...?  Tarot cards that she carried around with her all the time."  Allen smiled softly.  Pretty.  he was used to it, really.  He knew he wasn't the manliest creature out there.

"Tarot cards and pendulums. She sounds like a divinity witch." said Nikki, still thoughtful and scholarly now.

"A what?"  He cocked his head to the side slightly, arching a brow.

"Divinity is fortune telling, foresight . . . that kind of thing. Usually only witches nowadays practice such things. Of course, there are always other religions that touch it." she replied patiently.

Allen nodded slightly, sighing a bit.  There really was a lot to learn a bout this place.  And they hadn't even brushed the surface of it.

Celena stepped out of the bathroom, awkwardly walking in the shoes that Nikki had given her - the only pair that weren't platforms were some old-fashion lace up boots with a small one and one half inch heel. "I think I look funny," was the first thing she said.

Allen arched a brow slightly.  "I'm sure you don't, though I really can't have an opinion on this."

Celena smirked, blushing and embarrassed. Nikki stood and went to her, circling her and nodding approvingly at the taller girl. "Gods, I'm good." she said.

Allen was still settled on the couch, one arm resting on the arm of the furniture.  He smiled softly... Nikki seemed to be having fun with this.

Nikki turned back to look at Allen. "Well, I guess since you're dressed like normal Terrans now, we should have a look outside. My brother Chris told me where he found you. Maybe there are some clues there that'll help you back home." 

"It would be doubly helpful..."

Ethan shuffled out, his pants, well... considerably bigger with a variety of straps and chains and zippers on them.  He was currently towel drying his hair, glancing over at Allen.  "I don't think he should move around that much..."

Nikki thought for a moment. "A hole, huh?" 

"Yeah, I'm serious."

"It's usually what happens when something is impaled."  Allen shrugged one-shouldered.  The injury is another I'll simply have to deal with."

Nikki let out a huff. "Jesus. The guy's younger than Chris and he's been in *battle*. That's just weird. Don't you think, Ethan?"

Celena pouted, looking indignant, "I don't see what so strange about it. . ."

"Well, you see... you can get into the military when you're 18.  But... around here, we don't have a whole lot of wars and stuff, so even if you're in the military, you don't usually see a lot of action."

Allen rested a hand on Celena's arm softly.  "Always remember that their customs will be different, Celena."

"Yeah... so I was shocked when you said you were a knight so young."

Allen smiled softly.  "I was the youngest, actually.  So it was a bit odd there, as well."

"But - you're blind . . . how are you even able to fight, if you don't mind me asking," That was Nikki, back to her impulsive and forward questioning.

"Well... I wasn't blind at first.  This happened around a year ago.  However, I can still fight if need be.  I just cannot rely on my sight, for obvious reasons.  Hearing, mostly."

"Aw, man," she groan, "a blind swordsmen. Talk about lucky."

Celena stalked up to the girl, seething and looking about ready to punch her lights out. She poked her in the ribs. "Stop making fun of him."

Allen sighed, turning his head towards Celena.  "Don't you think it's a bit odd that you're the one getting upset when I'm the one she speaks of?  Calm down, Celena, I don't mind.  It's something I have to deal with."

"I wasn't making fun," said Nikki, "It's just - I know for a fact that it's near impossible for a blind person to do anything dexteritous. I mean, all that Zatoichi stuff Chris likes so much . . . it's all bullshit. Real people can't do that. It's no wonder you were so fucked up when you got here."

"It is simple enough if you work at it.  That's all it takes, really.  Celena herself has seen me  fight off men who can see as well as I could before the blindness."  Allen shook his head slightly.  He wasn't offended--except at the vulgarity again--in the least.

Ethan sighed, stretching.  "I bet he's right.  I bet he could be like Zatoichi.  Only... not poor."

"Right, maybe he could be a masseuse too." Nikki smirked, "Not that you'll have to stay here long enough to get a job. But it's something to think about."

"A job?" Celena blanched visibly, "Me?!"

"Celena, there is no Schezar nobility here, remember that."  He was more accustomed to work than she, but even still.  A job.  Hopefully he'd be able to wear gloves.

Chris finally joined them at that point, romping down the stairs in a loud poly button up shirt with a blue flame print on black design, black pants, not dissimilar to the pair Allen was wearing, and his heavy boots. His hair was tied back, the short little ponytail was a tuft of dark brown curls. He looked around and the bunch of them standing and/or sitting in the living room. Having heard the last bit of their conversation, he thought it would be a good idea to add his two cents.

"If they're not from here – this planet – they might have a hard time doing anything legal," he told them. Nikki turned, her expression still thoughtful yet her curiosity was definitely perked.

"Well, I'm not saying they're gonna stay here. But just in case, they need a job," she told her older brother, looking petulant with a hand on her hip. Chris approached her slowly, sighing and kissing her cheek. 

"They need to exist first." He said patiently. Celena harrumphed, her ego was still too used to being nobility for the three years of being returned to Allen. The bell sleeves of her tight – way too tight – lacy top flared out as she placed to fists on either of her hips.

"Well, we're obviously not figments of your imagination." She said.

"No, no, of course not." Said Chris again, politely taking her arm and escorting her back onto the couch to sit beside her brother. "What I'm saying is that there are papers that tell us when we're born, and where. Documents that prove that we exist. Records. If you're not from here, there's no record of either of you existing."

Nikki sat in on of the old fluffy chairs by the couch and TV, crossing her legs and smiling almost demonically as her dark lipsticked lips up turned into a grin. "What are you suggestion, Chris?" Ethan was right. She *was* having fun with this.

"My dear brother and sister," began the tall brunette, "I believe we might need to get them some fake I.D.s . . . if they want to function in our society and not get thrown in jail. Which would suck."

Allen nodded slightly, pursing his lips.  "That would make things a bit difficult."  Interesting.  So they kept records of the people born here, hm?  "What a novel idea... maybe I should suggest to Millerna.  That way, we'll know precisely the amount of food needed in Palas to feed the citizens so another riot won't occur."  

 He smiled sheepishly, waving a hand at them lightly.  "Ah, forgive me.  I go off on tangents sometimes."

 Ethan grinned a little.  "I do that, too.  It's called ADD.  But that'll be explained some other time."

Nikki grinned wickedly, "He can't have ADD . . . at least he *can* think."

 Celena shook her head in defeat, "What is this ADD?"

 "Ethan's, right. We should explain that later. For now, though, we should figure out why and how you got here." Chris said. "The park we found you guys in . . ." he ignored the scowl that Celena gave him at the mention of the word 'guy', "is just across the way a bit. I think Allen would need to stay here. Ethan can go with Celena and Nikki - just investigate the area. I'll say with you, Allen, and make sure that you stay off that leg I stitched up."

Ethan pouted a bit, looking at his sister.  Neh... she always was like that.  Ethan sighed a bit, tucking his hair behind his ear.  "Alright, that works.  Hopefully we'll find something, mm?"

 Allen smiled softly nodding a bit.  "I trust you with her more than myself."  Of course, in this world, he was a danger to her.  With all these new things out there, and with him unable to see... there was much danger.

"Alright, chickapen." said Nikki, standing and tugging Celena's arm to follow her. "Let's get this over with."

 "Chickapen?" quirked Celena, somewhat disgusted. Chris just nudged along from behind, patting her back in reassurance. 

 "Sorry about her. You'll get used to it. . ." he said.

Ethan smiled, looking over at Celena.  "Yeah... she's alright, don't get too offended or anything."  

 Allen shook his head slightly, a faint smile on his lips.  This was rather amusing.  And intriguing, of course. Chris, with the same amused look on his face, watched them leave through the front door, Nikki practically dragging Celena outside despite the girl's protests and embarrassment.


	20. Fun With Capitalism

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Fun With Capitalism**

Once they were alone, he looked to the younger man on the couch. He sat on the coffee table in front of him. "Your leg will be okay. It was bleeding like a son of a bitch yesterday, but I stitched that up and cleaned it. I have to apologize, though. We were going to take you to the hospital but - based on the problem about documents and records - we couldn't risk it. I hope you understand." he said apologetically.

"The hospital?  I assume that's like a more advanced and better equipped medical station."  Allen smiled a bit, but shook his head.  "It's quite alright.  I can understand your concerns with it, that would provide a bit of a problem. Ah, and before we go any further... I'll have to apologize on Celena's part.  She was raised as a lady," which was... not entirely the whole truth, but he didn't want to go into that, "among the aristocracy.  She's... a bit picky and I'm sorry to say much of that is my own doing."

Chris smiled, "Aristocrats, huh? Well, that explains you having such a high rank in your military. As far as I know, nobles were required to serve the crown for a set amount of years, no matter who they were. In Britain anyway. They're one of the few existing monarchies we have left in this world." He cocked his head to the side, "I suppose that's the sort of government that's found in your world?"

"It is.  Millerna is the queen of Asturia at the moment.  Well, more so my high rank is attributed to my being knighted.  And that was all with many thanks to the man who honed my sword skills.  And changed me into who I am today."  Allen smiled slightly, inclining his head.

A faint humming and chirping was heard, and Chris quickly reached into his pocket to pull out his cell phone. Ignoring the startled look on Allen's face, he flipped up the top and spoke into the receiver panel, "Yeah? Oh, Nikki – yeah, and? Nothing there?" A few moments pass by, Chris nodding mostly to himself, "Okay, behind the bushes?" he asked, very faintly, Nikki's voice could be heard coming from the phone, muffled high pitched – electronic. "Are you *sure*? . . . Well, okay. What? Celena's what? . . . um, sure, okay . . ." Chris quirked a grin, hearing the phone being exchanged on the other end, and Celena's yelling into the phone. "Whoa! Talk normally, I can hear you. Yes – it's called a phone. . . I guess it is kind of amazing for . . . Oh, . . . oh, sure, hang on."          

Chris looked up from his phone and said to Allen, "She wants to talk to you. . ."

Allen looked utterly confused, reaching out and taking the phone in hand.  "Uh... forgive me for being so ignorant of it, but... how do I use this?"  Allen pursed his lips slightly, holding the phone lightly in his hand, arching a brow.

"Here," said Chris, guiding Allen's hand to place the speaker to his ear. 

"Allen!!" came Celena's loud and excited voice from the other end, giggling and full of childish glee.

The blonde started a bit, eyes widening slightly.  He turned his head towards Chris, still looking confused.  "...That's Celena.  But she's not here..."

"Allen!!" Celena yelled happily, "It's - called - a - phone!"

"Quiet down," he murmured, blinking a bit.  Wow... "A... a phone?  How does it work?"

"It's a communication device! I don't know how it works but it's -- Hey, Nikki, what's that word again? -- Oh, yeah. . . It's so *cool*." The word just sounded so completely foreign coming from the noble girl.

"Cool?  Like... the weather?  Celena, I don't understand what you're talking about.  It's rather warm, actually..."

Chris was nearly on the floor, laughing and holding his stomach. "She means - she really likes it." he laughed, not being able to help himself, and finally he *did* fall to the floor laughing. "Oh, geez, it's just so classic."

"Allen, Allen . . . can you still hear me?" said Celena, sounding way too happy to be concerned.

"Yes, yes, of course I can."  Allen arched a brow slightly.  "Since when has 'cool' meant something's liked?"

"It's an expression..." Celena explained between giggles. Nikki started saying something to her, and the girl quickly sobered, though she was still smirking as she held the phone to her ear. "Nikki says that they can't find anything where they found us. How is that pillar of light created, anyway?"

"Honestly, I don't know the exact way.  But it has something to do with the pendant.  I assume it's because it's a link between Gaia and... Earth."  He had to pause to refrain from calling it the Mystic Moon.  It was Earth now.

"Oh," said Celena, "Okay, we're coming back now. . ." and right at that moment, Celena ran through the door, being careful not to trip into the coffee table as she launched herself to the couch. The other two trailed behind, just in time to watch the noble girl land on the cushions next to Allen. "Isn't this device amazing?!" she asked.

Nikki smirked, going up to her with her hand held out, "Can I have my phone back now?" Reluctantly, Celena gave it to her.

Allen shook his head slightly, an amused smile on his lips.  "It is... it honestly is.  There is nothing like this in our land.  It's incredible."  Allen held out the phone to Chris, turning his head towards the doorway as Ethan meandered inside.  

"Yeah, they're a big thing nowadays."

"We *need* to get one!" Celena insisted immediately, "Please, Allen, please please please?"

"Celena... with what?  Hitomi's currency was utterly different from anything we have."

"Oh . . ." she said, suddenly very dismayed, her head drooping, "We don't have money here . . ."

"It's okay. If you're going to stay here, you need papers. Chris'll get those for you. He got Ethan and I fake I.D.s when we were younger too." Nikki said.

Ethan grinned sheepishly, nodding and sitting down.  "They're pretty useful, too.  So once we get you some papers and stuff, then you can get jobs and raise money for one."

After that was said, the three Terrans helped Allen up their stairs, with quite a struggle as the knight's leg was still freshly wounded from just the day before. Eventually, they settled him on Ethan's bed in his room and Chris insisted that the knight take some sort of rest before he got up again. He also went on to explains something about healing quicker in an alpha state - but that just made Celena look confused again.

The trio left Allen and Celena in the bedroom alone after that, declaring that they would be mucking about their home if either of them needed anything. So very accomodating here, thought Celena, glad that her brother was finally able to lie down in a bed and not a stiff couch. She stroked his hair, as she was so prone to do - she loved his hair, just like his mother loved it and encouraged him to keep it long.

"Should I stay with you?" she asked softly.

"I believe I'd like that.  In such... unfamiliar territory, after all."  Allen smiled softly, his eyes closed.  The girl stroking his hair was comforting, relaxing.  It was nice.  outside, he could hear the other three inhabitants shuffling about the house, doing whatever it was they were doing.  Even the beds seemed differetn here.  Everything did.

 "Now I know what Hitomi felt..."

~

As requested, Celena *did* stay with her brother, watching him fall asleep. She lay beside him quietly, touching his cheek, giving him intimate kisses - but oh, how those marvels plagued her curiosity. After a while, the twitch in her body would not leave until she got up to seek more wonders. So she quietly left his side when she felt it was safe, torn but grinning at the same time. After sneaking out into the small hallway off the humble abode, she managed to snag Ethan.

"Can you show me more of your world?" she whispered, begging, her eyes wide and hopeful.

Ethan blinked, glancing over at her.  He had a towel draped over his head, his hair damp, the pants lowslung.  He obviously just got out of the shower.  Or a bath, really, to them.  "Ah?  Oh, sure."  Ethan grinned, nodding.  "Just... let me finish getting dressed.  What do you want me to show you?"

"Show me your city!" she said excitedly, practically jumping as she said it and following him into his room, unawares.

The boy laughed a little, shaking his head, rummaging around in his drawers for a bit.  "Well, it's rather spacious, there's a lot to see."  He smiled over his shoulder at her.

"Ooh, I can't wait! What's out there? Wait, wait, no! Don't tell me, I want to see for myself." she couldn't stop giggling, letting out smirks of glee and clapping her hands, "Oh, I can't wait!"

Ethan glanced over at her, smiling a little... then grinned sheepishly.  "Could you, um... I'll meet you in the livingroom, okay?"

Celena stopped, looking around her and realizing where she was - a *boy's* room. . . She squeaked, a profuse blush of deep pink staining her cheeks and her hand covering her mouth. "Oh! Oh, dear, I'm so - so sorry, I'll just. . ." she turned and hit the wall, backing up and flashing an extremely nervous grin to Ethan . . . "Just go - downstairs. . . " And she ran out the door, making her way swiftly down the steps.

Ethan blushed a little, quietly shutting the door behind her.  Well, that was certainly an odd experience.  He set about finishing drying off his hair and dressing, then stepped out in more wide-legged jeans, with chains and a whole variety of things on.  Bangles at his wrists, combat boots, his hair drawn up into a high ponytail, with the shorter, feathered locks up front falling forward.  He'd tugged on a vinyl-like black t-shirt over a fishnet shirt.  When everything was complete, he turned, padding downstairs and walking over to her.  "You ready?"

Celena's eyes widened, "Does everyone on the Mystic Moon dress like you do?"

"Ah?"  Ethan paused, then grinned, shaking his head.  "No, no... no, it's kind of odd for here too, I guess.  I catch some flack for it, but... I don't know, I like it."  

Slowly, Celena's grin widened on her face until it was a full smile. She had to look down at her own Terran attire - the lace top with bell sleeves showed her midriff, and she automatically kept trying to cover it with her arm. Her dress looked completely torn and shredded along the bottom hem. All of it was black, and the boots were the only things that were familiar to her, that style being so similar. 

She nodded, and stood from the couch to go over to him and take his arm. "I like it too." It was strange, unusual dress - and so naturally, Celena loved it.

Ethan smiled a bit, yelling out to Chris that he and Celena were going out, then turned, walking out, padding outside, stretching a bit.

"Do we take horses here? Or do we ride around in those . . . melefs on wheels," Celena asked tentatively once they were outside in the sunshine.

"Well, I usually walk around.  But if we need to go someplace kinda far, we drive."

"Is the place we're going to far then?" she asked.

"Not too far.  Plus, it's prettier when you walk.  You get to stop and look at things closer that way."

"Okay!" she agreed, and the began to walk down the streets of his city. She could not stop asking questions, as anyone from another world might do when they saw so many moving vehicles, lamposts that were taller than any in the city where Celena came from. The roads were paved so oddly, as if it were stone but at the same time it wasn't. And there was more of the stone streets and building then there was of wildlife, trees, plants - or so she noticed.

The entered a high populated downtown area, lit up by the afternoon sun. People on skateboards and roller blades rolling by, motorcycles intrigued Celena, as did the various street performers and jugglers. Ethan was kind enough to offer some coffee at one of the numerous coffee shops, and Celena agreed happily, as coffee was yet another thing her country was known for. Inside the noisy cafe is where they sat, enjoying the cool air. Celena's head was practically whirling, wanting to ask more questions as her coffee cooled.

"So, cool means you like something, and hot means you like something too? And you use awesome as expression to mean that you greatly approve? Why is it so cold in here when it's warm outside?"

"Oh, that's because of the air conditioner.  There's a machine that regulates the temperature of a room.  They're really great.  As far as the wording... 'cool' refers to thinking something's neat.  Liking it that way.  But 'hot' a lot of times refers to the way a person looks.  Like, say someone found you attractive.  They'd refer to you as being 'hot.'"

Celena grinned, "So am I - hot?" She fumbled for the word.

"I'd think of you more as 'pretty.'"  Ethan smiled softly, nodding to her.

"Oh," she smiled pleasantly, trying not to sound hurt as she slightly was, "well, that's good. I would have sworn I looked strange here."

"You?  No.  You blend right in with the people here."  Ethan grinned a bit, looking over at her.

"I'm glad," she said. She tested her cappuccino, smiling slightly as it had finally cooled to just the right temperature and drinking in the cinnamon flavored coffee. "There are many people in this city. Is it usually so crowded?"

"Always.  In the summer it's even worse because you have a lot of tourists that come down around here for vacation."

"Ah, they have summer homes then?" she asked, thinking like an aristocrat.

"Some of them.  But most people don't.  Most people rent out condos or such things."

Celena shrugged helplessly again, at a loss for words. So she just smiled, and sipped her coffee again, enjoying the rich taste of it. Almost as good as home. "Are women allowed in your libraries?" Someone had to hand it to Celena for random questions . . .

"Women aren't really prejudiced against.  There are women in the military and women who are doctors... they can do just about anything."

The noble girl gaffawed, nearly knocking the coffee off of the table in her surprise. "Military? There are *women* in the military here? By Jechia . . . and I just fancied being a knight like Allen was - I never thought . . . that's amazing." She looked at Ethan sternly, however. "Ethan, will you please take me to your library?"

Ethan arched a brow a bit, nodding.  "Of course.  It won't be open for much longer, probably, but yeah."  Ethan blinked a bit, looking at her.   She had considered the military?

"Wonderful. We should hurry then!" She stood, taking her coffee and eagerly awaiting the new surprises that await her in the city library. . . 

~

Nikki was talking to her brother - well, more like nagging. While Chris was trying to arrange to meet someone for false documents, Nikki was going on about where to keep the two outsiders. It had been arranged for now that they both stay in Chris' room. But oh how she loved to remind them about their *own* current financial state. Of course, it always ended with Chris patiently telling his sister off, by which she would reply stomping up the stairs, slamming her door, and cranking up Linkin Park to eleven.

Ethan grinned, nodding and heading out with her.  Hey, this day was turning out to be fun!

Allen jerked awake at the noise, groaning a little as the movement stung at hsi shoulder.  Well, that was comfortable, indeed.  He sat up silently, listening for the breathing of his sister past the loud music.  Loud obnoxious music.  He pursed his lips, frowning a little.  "Celena...?"

Not a sound but the insane volume of the music came to his ears, screeching and yelling of a -- human being? Such noise accompanying such music was overwhelming. There was no one in the room with Allen. Beyond the door, someone stomped past to bang on a neighboring door. It was Chris's voice that rose up above the insidious noise.

"For gods sake, Nicole! Turn it down!" he screamed.

Her reply was barely audible but none the less vulgar, "Fuck you!"

Allen leaned forward a little, worry drawing near.  What if the pillar of light took her back...?  "Celena...?"  Panic fluttered in his chest.

Chris growled, slowly opening the door to his room to check on his guest. "Ah, she woke you up, I see." He entered, closing the door behind him. "I'm sorry about Nikki. I'll try to get her to turn down the music."

"Ah... do you, by chance, know where Celena is?"  He wanted to panic, he wanted to throttle the boy until he told him, but he stayed where he was.

"She went out with Ethan," Chris answered simply.

"Oh... oh, alright."  Allen smiled sheepishly.  "She was here when I drifted off to sleep, so it surprised me when she wasnt' still here."

"Right. Well, I imagine she wanted to go see the city, since we have a lot of stuff you guys probably don't. In any case, just stay here and try to rest, okay?" With that, he was already gone, banging again on his sisters door and yelling at her to turn the music down . . .

Allen sighed softly, running a hand through his hair.  He'd definitely have to find something to do.  

~

Celena thought she had seen all the interesting things there were to see just on the streets of this strange, booming city. But she was pleasantly surprised when they'd reached the library. More so was she amazed that the language she was speaking with these Mystic Moon people she could also read in their books, recognized the letters even though she'd never seen them before. It was as if some part of her brain were replaced - upgraded. Maybe it happened when they got sent here, she thought.

Ethan smiled a bit, sitting down across from her at a table, looking at her.  He kept thinking about earlier, when she was so excited about the cell phone, when she'd wanted one.  They didn't have any money... not that Ethan and the others had an overabundance, either.  The boy sighed, resting his chin on his crossed arms lightly, watching her.  So, she really was from another world--or crazy.

"Hey, Celena...?  Do you have any money of any kind?  Something you could trade in for money?"

Celena looked up from the book she'd been reading, something called Little Women -- she only got it because the title seemed odd to her, and she'd wondered as to its contents. "Trade? No, we don't have money, but - we came here with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Nothing to trade."

"How about that?"  Ethan reached out, tapping the ring softly, smiling up at her.  "I don't know anything about trading, but I bet it'd get you some."  

"This?" she asked, looking down at the ring he had indicated on her right hand. She smiled gently, "It was my mother's. But it's just moonstone and platinum. Nothing of worth to anyone but me and Allen."

"I think it'll get you some money here.  Like I said, I don't know much about trading... but if you were willing," he smiled, shrugging a little bit.

"If - if it would mean our independence in this world," she began, her face becoming thoughtful, her tone quiet, "Then maybe my mother won't mind . . . if it's to help us."

Ethan smiled a bit, nodding.  "I'm sure she wouldn't.  Mothers are like that, you know?  Or... I guess they are."  Ethan smiled a little sheepishly.  "I don't remember mine."

"What happened to your mother?" she asked, concerned.

He smiled softly, shaking his head.  "I'm the youngest out of the three of us there back home.  Um... when mom went into labor, there was something wrong.  She was sick, I think.  And... the doctors said that she couldn't have me, you know?  But... she insisted.  And dad said that she just smiled up at him... and.. well, I don't remember mom at all because she died a few months afterwards.

His story was indeed sad, and her eyes misted at the thought of her own mother, not being able to know her after she died. "I'm sorry, Ethan." she said softly, reaching for his hand. "I lost my mother too."

Ethan smiled softly, shaking his head, holding her hand for a moment.  "It's okay... she made the decision after all."  The boy cocked his head to the side slightly, looking at her.  "I'm sorry..."

Celena smiled grimly, "I guess we're sorry for each other . . . but that probably won't accomplish much." She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand in a most uncouth manner. "Now, I need you to show me how blind people read. I would like to bring a book home to my brother."

"Oh, well... it'll be more difficult than just setting it down in front of him.  He'll have to learn the Braille alphabet first."

"Well, how does one learn it?" she asked, starting to become impatient. She needed to start thinking of her brother more anyway. "If it is an alphabet, is it not the same one that I had been reading? Come to think of it - how *does* Braille work?"

"They're raised bumps that form the alphabets.  I don't know that much about it, but he'd probably need a tutor of some sort."

Celena blanched, "I'm sure he'll be thrilled getting a tutor . . . but he so hates feeling helpless. Reading and writing were taken from him too, the day he was blinded." She shook her head, "I hardly knew what to do when he was so depressed. . . ."

"Well... I'm sure we can find a tutor for him somehow.  But... you'll have to trade that ring in for money before that."

She sighed, looking down at her mother's precious ring. She sighed and relented, "Where do I sell it?"

"Ah, there's probably a place to trade in currency around here somewhere.  It'd be better to ask Chris or Nikki, they pay more attention than I do."  

All Celena could do was nod. She'd spent a little more time in the library before she and Ethan were eventually kicked out - not empty handed. Celena had badgered the boy into using his library card so that she could borrow a stack of books. Happy as a lamb, she slowly made her way up the front steps of the townhouse and went inside to tell of everything she'd seen.

 "Allen!" she said, bursting in through the door with an armful of books, "You're never guess the things that I've seen, Allen!"

Ethan followed quietly behind, smiling a bit.  It had been fun, really.  He slipped inside, stretching a bit, a faint grin on his lips.  He toyed with the twin tongue piercings, wandering into the kitchen idly.  

Allen lifted his head slightly, startled awake from his near state of sleep.  "Hm...?  What?"  He cocked his head to the side a little, quirking a brow.

Dropping the pile of books on a spot on the floor, she went to his bedside and lay down to hug him as she spoke of all the wonders - of cars and their numbers, streetlamps and traffic signals, air conditioning, and the amount of people that were in downtown. Cool means you like something, and hot means your attractive . . . "And brought you a book in Braille. But Ethan told me you won't be able to read it until you learn Braille. It's neat, Allen. Little raised bumps . . . So many wonders." she finished with an exhausted sigh.

Allen smiled a bit, nodding slightly.  "Thank you for your consideration..."  He ran his fingers through her hair softly, that small smile lingering.  They'd really done so much for Celena and himself, it was wonderful.  But now he did understand what it was like for Hitomi and he understood why she always got so emotional over it.  

He listened to his sister go on, rather interested in the world he couldn't see.

Celena began to yawn a bit as she continued with the last of her discoveries, " . . . a box that shows moving pictures called a television - because it let's you see things that are happening from far away. I thought there were people in the little box behind the glass. A radio plays music and things you can hear like people talking and telling stories . . . oh, Allen! There's a beach nearby. Ethan said that if we get jobs and make a little money, there are dwellings near the beach that we would be able to afford perhaps. Apparently they don't cost very much to hire . . . I thought you might like the beach nearby if - if we had to live here."

"I think it would be nice... of course, we'd have to get the money, first."  Allen nodded slightly, running a hand through his hair.  To think that they might be stuck there...t hat they couldn't get back.  It was frightening, really.  Of course, the fact that he couldn't see this new world, he had no idea what it was like... that, in itself, frightened him immensely.  A soft sigh lingered on his lips, unseeing eyes closed.

"Money . . ." she said softly, looking down at her hand. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, her breath catching as her heart constricted with the thought of parting with the ring on her hand. She took off her mother's ring, and pressed it into Allen's palm. "We could sell this." she said sadly.

Allen cocked his head to the side slightly.  "A ring?  Is that... the one mother passed down?"  The blonde frowned a little.  He didn't much like the idea of it, but if they had to, if they needed the money that bad, he was sure she'd understand.

Celena sniffed. "Yes. I don't want to part with it, Allen, I don't. You gave that ring as a gift after you'd found me - and I had never taken it off since then. But . . . if it means our survival, what choice do we have?"

"I was thinking the same thing.  Celena, it is simply a material possession... what is that to our necessities?  It would be good to keep it, but we can't live like this... they, if we keep this up, will spend money on us and we have to be able to pay that back."

"Yes, of course. I will speak to Chris about it tonight and perhaps we may be able to gather the funds tomorrow morning." She leaned into him again, letting him turn the ring around in his deft seeing fingers, and kissed him gently, "We can marry here . . ." she whispered.

Allen smiled softly, inclining his head.  "Let us focus on one thing at a time here, Celena."  He slipped an arm about her, handing her back the ring gently.  He was glad she was here... he was also rather glad they'd gotten out when they did.  He hadn't wanted to die, really.  But he had resigned to the fact that he was going to.

Celena nuzzled him one last time and stayed there. 

~

It would be a couple weeks before Allen was healed enough to even walk about the home of the three siblings. During that time, while Allen was resting and/or musing over the raised bumps on the pages of a Braille book that he couldn't read or understand, Celena was amusing herself with all the little fascinations that surrounded her. So many things to pore over, and attempt, experiment with. She couldn't keep her eyes from the TV most of the time, and Ethan and Chris had shown her video games.

Of course, she was terrible at those, since she didn't really understand how her hands pressing little buttons could manipulate the incredible warriors on the screen of the TV. The radio was her second favorite thing, and she would put her hands on the speakers to feel the vibrations of the music that was played. The music, Nikki explained, were different bands and their sounds had been recorded onto discs. The excited young 19 year old quickly grew to like whatever noise it was they were playing. . . it was loud, rhythmic and highly unusual.

Nikki had also gotten excited, with Celena around. She claimed it was like having a little sister, what with the girl dressing in Nikki's clothes. But Nikki being who she is, got a bit of an evil streak in her and coaxed Celena to let her do her makeup. She actually wasn't bad, both Chris and Ethan fearing that Nikki would do something horrendous to Celena's pretty face - when really, it was tastefully punk, or so Chris described it. Celena wouldn't stop staring at herself in the mirror, her lips were painted dark auburn, her cheeks were only rosy blushed though, and her eyes were lined in black - not as heavily or strangely as Nikki's. She looked . . . good, that way.

Thus made over and quickly following into the footsteps of a true punkish Terran, Celena was given - as sort of gift of initiation. Flabbergasted and flattered - though all three of them assured her that the portable CD player wasn't that expensive - she went straight to her and Allen's temporary room to show him her gift. 

"Look what Nikki and Chris and Ethan gave me!" she said, holding up the CD player, jumping and holding back her excited giggles.

He'd forced himself to get able to walk, really.  Stubborn, as usual.  The more he got closer to being able to do so, the more Ethan was getting excited.  He'd promised to take Allen shopping for clothes.  Allen, himself, was a little excited at that prospect.  The clothes he wore now w ere more comfortable, really, once he'd gotten used to the odd fabrics.  

The blonde glanced up, blinking a bit from where he'd stood, bracing himself on the wall.  "Ah... what is it?"  It was a little frustrating, but he kept it pushed down.  She kept talking about all these new things, all these marvels... but he couldn't look at them.  He couldn't see them.  Though he was intrigued nonetheless by the odd technology.

"Here, let me show you," she said, all to happy to be doing so as she walked up to him. Taking the earphones, she gently placed them in Allen's ears. "Don't flinch . . ."

Allen arched a brow slightly, staying still as she put them on him.  "Er....?"

Selecting her favorite song on the discus that they had given her, she pressed play and grinned wickedly. There was a subtle whine and hiss of the CD player working, starting up and spinning. Then the music came on, loud enough for Celena herself to hear from her brother's ears. 

Allen started a bit, pulling them off.  He blinked a little, handing the headphones to her.  "Far.... far too loud."  He shook his head slightly.  "But... interesting nonetheless..."

"Yeah!" she said, still grinning, "Isn't it cool?"

"It's... interesting."  Allen arched a brow, shaking his head slightly.

Celena giggled again, taking his arm and pulling him toward the door. "Come on, sleepy head. We have things to do today!" she said, "First stop is to sell mother's ring. Then with that money, we should buy ourselves some new clothes. We need to get you a cane. And I was thinking some shirts like the kind Chris wear - you would look good in those. Ethan's coming with us!"

"Ah?"

Ethan grinned, glancing over.  "Oh, no, no... this is a guys' outing.  That way we get to surprise you."  Ethan chuckled a bit, smiling.  This was going to be fun as hell.  Jazz and Kurt and I are going to go with him.  He'll be... well taken care of."

Allen stumbled a little as he was tugged out, sighing and withdrawing his arm from hers.  He still couldn't walk too fast, and it was just easier for him to move on his own.

"Oh, Ethan!" pouted Celena as Allen was pulled from her grasp, "Come on . . ." she sighed, "Well, please take care of him. Just remember that he can't see, okay. Don't forget the cane - whether he likes it or not, he needs one." She maliciously poked Allen in the small of his back, which she knew was a renown ticklish spot for him.

Allen batted her hands away, frowning a little.  "Celena, I'm not a child."  She certainly seemed to think him unable to take care of himself.  It was... rather irritating.  He'd lived with his blindness for a long while now, and it wasn't like he was alone out there.  With a sigh, he and Ethan walked out, the blonde bracing himself on Ethan's shoulder.

They met up with Jazz and Kurt quickly at the coffee shop nearby, then headed off to find Allen some clothes, trade in the ring... and finally snag the knight a cane. It had a removable piece that slipped out with a blade in the center of it.  Yeah, they knew were to shop.  Allen had simply murmured something about feeling naked weaponless... and that decided it, he'd decided.

They were gone for hours, really, just having a bit of fun.  Kurt and Jazz meandered off later, making Ethan promise to have a practice tomorrow evening.  Ethan took his time showing Allen around, explaining things as he went.  It really was rather fun.  


	21. Brave New World

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Brave New World**

It was getting dark when they showed up again, Allen explaining just what a guymelef was.  Ethan carried a few bags with him, helping Allen up the steps, grinning.  "So... yeah, that's like in anime, man.  Mecha.  That's awesome."

"Hey," said Nikki from her chair as she watched Celena try to play Soul Calibur 2 - which was amusing as all hell, because the girl kept flinching every time her fighter got hit. She saw Allen and her brother come in, carrying bags of various assortments, and Allen carrying a wooden staff like thing . . . Nikki groaned, "Jesus Christ, Ethan - don't tell me you got him a sword."

Ethan waved a hand at Nikki, dismissively, taking the bags upstairs and then returning after a little  They settled on the couch, Ethan grinning a bit.  They'd had fun, it was obvious.  

Allen shook his head a little, a faint smile on his lips.  Yes... they'd had fun.

Celena dropped the controller and stood to approach her brother. She couldn't hide that she felt extremely snubbed, and that feeling created a pit of jealousy in her stomach. "What did you do today?"

Ethan patted Allen on the shoulder lightly.  "I introduced him to Jazz and Kurt--two of the guys in the band I play in--and we went about shopping and such.  We all just kind of hung out and talked and stuff."

Allen arched a brow.  "I never once thought I'd have that much fun looking for clothing, really."

Ethan laughed, shaking his head.  "Well... it's hard not to have fun with those two."  

"And did you sell the ring?" she asked, looking over Allen's new attire, trying to determine if she approved or not.

"Yes, actually..."  Allen nodded a bit to her question.

Ethan grinned, nodding a bit.  "Yeah... it got you guys a little bit over a thousand.  That's more than I expected, but what do I know about metal values like that?"  The boy shook his head a little.  "I'm an idiot when it comes to things like that."

"A thousand," said Celena, thinking to herself with a finger on her mouth, "Is that a lot?"

Ethan shrugged a little.  "It's more than I've got.  It's pretty high for a ring, I guess.  I'm not very sure, really."

She nodded, already missing the ring. "I'm glad you had fun," was all she could think of to say. She hung her head a bit, turning and went upstairs to their room.

Nikki groaned, "Aw, shit. You made her cry. Nice work, idiot."

Allen sighed softly, arching a brow.

Ethan bit down on his bottom lip gently.  Well, that just deflated the joy of the day.  Allen unfolded himself from the couch, turning and heading calmly up after her.  This was ridiculous... he pushed open the door to their room.  "Celena...?"

"I've hired you a tutor." she said scathingly, sitting on the bed and putting on her earphones.

Allen frowned a little, sighing.  Just forget it.  Forget trying to reason with her.  That was the easiest solution at the moment.  He turned, padding downstairs and towards the door, waving over his shoulder.  He'd only be just outside.  Not going anywhere, really.  He sat down on the bottom step, sighing heavily.

Chris was just coming home himself, from shopping at the grocery store. When he saw Allen sitting on the steps outside of his house, looking dejected, he grew concerned. He shifted the rustling plastic bags to one hand and set them down. "Hi, Allen. What's going on?" he asked, concerned.

Allen turned his head towards him, offering a little smile and shaking is head.  "It's nothing... I think it's just from being all closed up the way we've been, it's getting to us."

"Well," he said, sitting down beside the knight, "Maybe you should get out then. This about you and your sister?"

"It is."  Allen sighed a little, running a hand through his hair.  "I think she was irritated because she didn't come along with Ethan and I earlier today."

"Hmm, you and your sister seem very close from what I could tell," said the older man, "You might like taking her out then, if she's feeling snubbed."

"I went to go speak with her, but she just brushed me off.  It's... thoroughly irritating."  Allen shook his head slightly.  "Of course, I'm not blaming all this on her."

"Brushed you off? Did she say anything?" he asked.

"She said she got me a tutor.  I assume regarding to Braille.  Bu she just... it wasn't a very enjoyable tone.  And then she just started listening to that music of hers."

Chris couldn't help but grin, even though he desperately tried to suppress it, "Yeah, she - uh - got corrupted by Nikki, it seems. Even dresses like her now - only less make up, thank goodness." He let out an amused huff.

"Mm... she has changed a lot just in such a short period of time."  Allen sighed softly, shaking his head.  It was almost... disturbing, really.  "Just so long as she still speaks like a lady."  He'd be utterly offended if she started cussing.

"Well, why don't you take her to the beach, or something? So you can talk things out. Communication is always a good thing," he said smartly, his pscyh degree showing through.

Allen ran a hand through his hair, sighing a little.  "It would likely be a good idea, yes..."

Chris nodded. "Plan for it, then. Tomorrow. Spend time with her outside. I'm sure she would appreciate it."

"Mm..."  Allen nodded slightly, offering a little smile.  "My thanks, Chris..."

He clapped him on the back, "No problem, Allen." With that, he picked up the groceries and went inside to start dinner.

Celena wouldn't come out of the room, and Nikki needed to bring her a plate of her food so that she would eat. Grudgingly, Celena accepted and ate the pasta she'd been given before falling asleep on the bed with a headache. Ethan smiled a bit, he was... animated, like usual.  All happy-like and stuff.  Talking on about Jazz and what was going on with them.  When Allen had finished, he quietly excused himself, turning and heading upstairs.  He pushed open the door quietly, sighing, making his way over to the bed, sitting down lightly.

"Do I treat you badly?" came a whisper from beside him on the bed.

Allen lifted his head a little, turning his head towards her.  "No... I don't blame this on you.  We've both been in here for awhile, with so little time outside.  Did you not coming along really upset you that much?"

"A - a little," she admitted.

"I'm sorry.  It was all supposed to be good fun, and it was meant to surprise you with what we got."

"Oh," she said quietly, "Well, I like your new clothing. I looked through the bags . . ."

"Oh.."  Allen smiled a little, shaking his head.  "It's... odd."

Celena smiled a bit, burying her face into the pillow, "I like it."

"I'm glad.  It'll take getting used to, though."

She hummed in reply, tugging on his hand lightly, "Come on. Come to bed and sleep."

Allen sighed softly, loosening his hair from the ponytail, tugging off the t-shirt lightly.  He slid into bed alongside her, leaning back softly against the pillows.

Celena was glad for his warmth, and his strong frame to snuggle against, glad to nuzzle her head into the curve of his shoulder. "Allen," she asked softly, "When will we . . . when did you want to . . . take me?" she blushed in the dark.

Allen blinked a bit, holding her close.  He smiled softly.  "Sometime special, that's all I know."

That was enough for her, and smiling contentedly in the darkness of their room, she fell asleep to the gentle sound of his heart beat.

~

As planned, Allen was to take Celena on an outing. With Celena has his guide, and his new bamboo cane, they strolled along down the city streets. They were really only a few blocks from the beach, and Celena had gotten so used to the strangely paved streets that it started to feel familiar to her - like her own home city, which wasn't exactly the most peaceful and quiet place on Gaea either. Salty sea air wafted  along a gentle breeze, and the finally stepped into the sand.

"Why did you want to take me here, Allen?" she asked, enjoying the view of the beach and the sea, even though deep within her heart, it held bitter memories for her.

Allen walked along beside her, smiling softly.  "It was a suggestion from Chris, actually.  After that whole ordeal last night, he suggested both of us get a little fresh air."

The blonde had one hand resting on her forearm, the cane in hand.  He wasn't complaining about it.  He'd relented to his needing it, after all.

"So long as you don't clam up on me again, but I think I can safely say you're over that stage," she said, nudging him gently so that they were a 20 feet from the ocean. She sat down on the sand, wary of other people sunbathing and children playing, some of them staring at Allen.

Allen fell silent, his eyes closed, head tipped slightly to the side.  It was like he could feel their eyes upon him, but he didn't turn to them, he didn't feel ashamed... not this time.  Hair loosely drawn back--as he'd had a habit of doing recently--waved slightly in the wind, standing there.  Even though he dressed differently, he still held himself as he had before--proud and knightly.

"Sit down, Allen, you're making me nervous." she said playfully, tugging gently on his pant leg.

Allen arched a brow slightly, resigning, sitting down beside her.  "Howso?"  He murmured softly, turning his head slightly towards her.

"Well, I was sitting, you were standing and you're really tall. Not to mention intimidating . . . I still have a little trouble being alone - with men that could easily overpower me." she admitted quietly. Her silver hair blew in the wind and shined, and she took in a deep breath of the sea air.

"Mm... my apologies, then.  I hadn't thought of it like that before."  Even though he knew she trusted him, it was still a little painful to think that he was still grouped among other men, that he intimidated her.  He understood completely why, really, and didn't fault her for it.

But it hurt nonetheless.

"I'm sorry," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes. How she loved to feel him and nuzzle him. How perfect he was for her, that not even all the men she'd seen on the street, or Chris or Ethan, could ever touch her heart the way Allen did.

"It's alright, it's just me being overly sensitive," he murmured softly, putting an arm around her.  "I understand why... there's no reason to apologize."

"Okay." she replied, snuggling into him some more. "I told you that I'd hired you a tutor . . . She seemed nice on the phone. She mentioned that she teaches at the library. You'll go, won't you?"

"Of course.  Reading was a large part of my life when I had time for it.  I'd be more than thrilled to learn it all over again."

"Just - try not to get too frustrated. I saw what one of those Braille books look like . . ." she hung her head, "And honestly - I can't imagine how anyone could read it."

"Oh, I'll be fine, Celena, don't worry about it."  Allen shook his head slightly, a faint smile on his lips.

"Then you won't mind starting today?" She asked, perked up a bit by his reassurances.

"Would I really?"  Allen arched a brow slightly.  Of course, he'd love to.

"This afternoon at the library, she told me. Oh, her name is Sarah Mills." She kissed his cheek tenderly, leaving her lips upon his skin for longer than a kiss was necessary, brushing her hand through his hair gently before pulling back. "I love you."

"And I you, of course."  Allen smiled softly, his arm still loosely around her. The smell of the salty breeze was comforting, soothing in some odd way, as was the cool wind that brushed against his face.  "Is it beautiful?" he asked of the water, the rolling waves, the beach before them.

She leaned her head on his shoulder again, letting her curls whip about her in the wind as she gazed out towards the sea. "It is. Cloudy dark blue water, gentle waves. You'd like it."

"I already do... but I suppose I would more if I could see it.  It sounds wonderful.  Though I doubt it compares to you."  He brushed his hand lightly against her cheek.  It was odd to feel his fingers without gloves, to see him without them after he was rather anal about wearing them. 

His touch had driven little electric shocks through her, feeling the feather softness of his thumb even though it was slightly callused from so many years. The day was beautiful, yes. The sky a streaking vivid azure that day, hardly any clouds. The breeze blew gently around them, swirling and making Allen's hair dance about like golden banners. He was – so beautiful. Before she knew what she was doing, Celena lifted her hand to meet Allen's face.

She closed her eyes to the beauty that surrounded them, the peace and happiness of the people filling her with the darkness as her eyelids shut. Gently, she traced her hands along his jaw, slowly making sure to find every curve, following the line to his neck. The back of her fingers smoothed his cheek affectionately, her fingertips finding the bridge of his nose, memorizing the line down to the tip, down to his mouth and how beautifully it curved into that slight smile of his.

As her fingers touched and felt their way about his lips, she already felt herself leaning forward, ever so slightly at first, eyes still closed – a kiss. She had kissed him so many times before, but this kiss . . . tasted of sweet fruits and was moist, plump, and delicious. It rivaled all the kisses she'd given him, finding that she did not want to leave the safe comfort of its softness.

Allen turned his head towards her at the gentle touch, arching a brow.  He could only wish to see her face again... with his eyes instead of the touches upon her face.  He yearned to see her fully, as she was.  Because that way, she would be even more beautiful.  

His eyes were closed, that soft smile lingering on his lips.  It was nice there, to feel her fingers, and to, all of a sudden, unexpectedly, feel her lips against his.  It had become a normal occurrence, really, and nice.  A reaffirmation that she cared.

Gently, he returned the kiss, still wary of the fact that this was, after all, a public area.

Although, Celena was not so wary, and so inspired was she by him, that she felt the world fall away, everyone on the Mystic Moon disappeared to her. There were no more children, no more mothers running after them. . . it was just the sea, the sand, the breeze, and her love for him. Feeling adventurous, her mouth opened slightly in their affections, her tongue gently sliding along passed his lips. Oh, how sweet he tasted, her mind reeled. Her hands reached behind his head and braced him to her, drawing him closer, firmer into the kiss.

It felt nice, warm... it felt right.  He returned the kiss softly, fingers light against her fingers.

And then the piercing cry of a child as it laughed, and he started, drawing his lips away.  The faintest flush remained on his cheeks as he remembered.  Public.  Where other people could see.  He couldn't do that, he just couldn't.

Celena growled, staring daggers at the annoying little twerp that interrupted them. "What are you staring at, you little jerk?" she snapped. The child, thus frightened by her piercing gaze, gasped and ran away. She hung her head, clicking her tongue with a scowl on her face, "Annoying little cuss."

Allen started a bit, looking rather... offended.  "Celena!?  What's wrong with you?  He's a child!"  He turned his head towards her, shocked.  By gods...

The blonde braced himself using the cane and pulled himself up, his hands shaking slightly.  She had changed.  A lot.  She had a bit of a temper before this, but... he was a child.  A child and she spoke to him so.  He didn't know any better.  A rather disapproving scowl hung on his lips, staring sightlessly away.  If he hadn't been blind... he could have gone back to the town house.  He wanted to mull over this, he wanted to force away his shock.

But Celena... every few minutes, he could hear her hiss those words.

"Where the hell are you going?" she demanded when he watched him stand up in a huff. Kicking sand in her hurry to follow, she stood as well. "By Jechia, he was just some annoying little kid. Who cares? He shouldn't have been staring."

"He was a child, he didn't know any better.  I don't see why you're so upset about it!  And don't you go speaking me like that.  I don't know why you've picked this language up from Nikki, but it's thoroughly unpleasant and disgusting."

She growled again, grabbing his hand to lead his annoying carcass off the beach. "I don't care. I'm only blending in. If you haven't noticed, people don't talk like you do here. It's different. It's - *old*."

Allen growled a little, yanking his hand away from her.  She was so bloody touchy all of a sudden, so irritable.  She knew these things troubled him, bothered him.

So much for a calming, relaxing walk on the beach.  "Just go.  Get Ethan or Chris to get me."  He needed to think.  He needed to be away from her for a little.  He needed to get past the shock.

Celena scowled, anger beyond reckoning crossing her features. "What about your appointment?"

"They'll take me.  Just go."  He turned his head away from her, that frown on his lips.  He sat down carefully, falling silent besides that.

"You know what? To hell with you!" she yelled, leaning towards his sensitive ear, "Maybe I should just leave you here. You starting to be a drag anyway!"

Allen winced, leaning away from her a little.  He didn't bother to say anything, that frown on his lips.  She just had to be irritating, didn't she?  "Maybe you should, hm?"  

*didn't bother to say anything for a moment, that frown on his lips

Celena harrumphed and pretty much stomped and stalked all the way back down the street to the town house, tearing through the living room, up the stairs, and slamming her door shut. Oh, he deserved it, her mind justified for her as she slouched and scowled on the bed. She ignored the faint scents of her brother on the pillow, grabbing the pillow and pressing it to her face to let out a magnificent muffled scream of utter rage.

What the hell was his problem?! He's so old fashioned! He refused to adjust to this new world they were obviously going to spend the rest of their lives in. A perfect moment was ruined by one stupid little child, and he had to get all defensive because he'll always be a knight, much to Celena's anger. They didn't have bloody knights here! He didn't need to be one anymore and after that fight, she couldn't care *what* happened to him. He could get lost for all she cared.

Allen sighed, drawing one leg to his chest, bowing his head.  Well, that had gotten him nowhere... except out here, alone, with no idea which way to go back.  But he couldn't get past hearing her speak those words, to both him and the child.  It hurt deeply.  She knew he disapproved, she knew it disgusted him and still... still used them around him.  Had she expected him to change the way she had?  Did she expect him to suddenly become a foul-mouthed, vulgar little scamp?

He couldn't give up his ideals.  He had lived them for so long...

He couldn't let one's honor go tarnished.  He couldn't let her speak to a child that way.  That was horrendous.

Allen lifted his head as the boy softly touched his arm, turned his head sightlessly towards him.  "Are you sad, mister?"

The blonde couldn't help but smile slightly, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair, unable to answer.  He started when the boy took his hand, tugging at him.  "Come on!  We'll play!  You can't be sad when you play!"

The child was young, and didn't bother asking why this pretty man with the blond hair didn't really look at what they were doing. He tugged on his hand, nudging him to a little sculpture in the sand. "Do you want to make drip castles with me? They're really easy!"

"Ah, make what?"  Allen smiled a bit.  The child was really rather adorable.  For now, the fight with his sister was in the back of his mind.

"Here." said the child cheerfully, taking Allen's hand and dipping it in a bucket filled with sea water and sand, "Take some sand with water and then drip the sand on the dry sand in front of you. It's really neat when you make 'em big. My daddy taught me." The little boy grinned, "He also taught me how to get sand crabs. I think there's still some in there with your hand."

Allen arched a brow, doing as he was instructed.  It didn't matter if he couldn't see it, really.  But it was fun nonetheless.  The soft smile still lingered on his lips.  It was... fun, to be with this child, playing with him.  Almost like he was repaying his debts to him... and going beyond that, too.

"Wanna hold a sand crab?" asked the little boy.

"Hm?  Of course," he murmured softly, holding out a fair-skinned hand.  The blonde smiled, inclining his head a little.

The child eagerly plunged his hand into his water and sand filled bucket, feeling around the soft wet sand until he found the familiar little wiggling creatures that lived in it. He pulled a handful of them out, letting some of the sand sift down through the water, and placing the wet little tickling things into Allen's hand. "Hee, I just got these today . . . they're funny. Daddy says they're blind." he giggled, "Don't they tickle?"

Allen smiled softly.  Blind?  Kindred spirits.  "You can't see the world around you either," he breathed in a whisper, careful to hold them gently.  "They're interesting."  Allen nodded to the boy.  It was odd to feel their legs crawling about on his hand.

"Yeah," said the boy, scratching his sandy head, "I was thinking of naming them but there's too many. So I just named them all Bob."

"Bob?"  Allen laughed a little... that name was amusing... and new to him.  He smiled a bit, head a little bowed.  All in all, this was smoothing into an enjoyable afternoon.

"Hey, mister? What's your name?" asked the little boy, the thought to ask coming to him only after discussing the names of his sand crabs.

The blonde smiled a little, turning his head towards the boy.  "Allen," he murmured softly, stopping himself from spouting off his knighthood.

"Hi, Allen!" he said, as if they were meeting for the first time, "My name's Gregory! And you've met all the Bobs . . ." he giggled.

Allen laughed a little bit, nodding.  "So I have... it's good to meet you, Gregory."

"So what is that stick?" asked Gregory innocently, pointing to the bamboo cane at Allen's side. "It's funny looking."

"Ah?  Well, I use it to make sure I don't run into anything when I walk."  Allen motioned to his eyes, "I can't see, just like these crabs."

"Huh?" Gregory's nose scrunched up in confusion, bringing a hand up and slowly moving to poke Allen's nose, "You can't see anything?"

Allen started a little at the touch, but smiled, almost sadly.  "No... not at all."

"Weird . . ." breathed Gregory. But the idea was quickly forgotten, and the little boy's tone changed from awe to carefree in less than two seconds, "Wanna make castles for the crabs?"

"Ah?  Why not?"  Allen nodded a bit, the smile smoothing over.  If only he could have such carefree thoughts.  It was... wonderful to be someone not so careful, not worried.

Gregory kept having to guide Allen's hand to make the drip castles, with only a few minor complaints from the child who thought of himself as a master engineer in children's sand sculpture. But they'd built up a quaint little drip structure with several tall spires, setting the crabs all along the castle's walls. The only thing the crabs started to do was dig back into the wet sand.

"Oh, man. They got away . . ." said Gregory despairingly.

"Gregory Trenton Peters!" screamed an enraged and panicked female from behind Allen. Gregory gasped, jumping slightly as his mother stalked up to her son in the company of a strange man. "I have been looking *everywhere* for you! What were you thinking, going off by yourself. And you! What are you doing with my son?"

Allen started slightly, turning his head a little towards the pair that had approached.  The angry pair.  He could understand just why they might have been angry.  After all, their child had gone off without, obviously, telling them.  Allen braced himself on the can, pulling himself to his feet, turning to face them sightlessly.  "It was my doing, ma'am, forgive me.  I was sitting out there on the beach and he asked me to play with him.  I had no other obligations, so I did.  I couldn't see that he was alone--that you two weren't nearby--so I didn't think to question it."

The woman grew pale at this man's words, taking her son roughly by the hand and speaking to him, "Did he touch you, Gregory?" 

"N-No!" said the boy, "We just played. We made sand castles." He sniffed pathetically, "I showed him my sand crabs. His name is Allen. And he didn't make fun of my arm. He can't see. Mommy, don't be mad."

Allen cocked his head to the side, arching a brow little.  Touch him...?

The blonde blinked, unseeing eyes widening as he understood.  Touch the child?  By gods... he would never do such a thing!  "Ma'am, please... it was not meant in offense to you, I did not do him any harm."

"My son doesn't lie," she said evenly, looking at Allen with cold narrowed eyes, "Just don't come near him again."

"Mommy, he's a nice man." whined Gregory, his crippled arm clutched to his chest while the other hand was firmly in his mother's grasp.

Allen sighed softly, inclining his head a little.  "Very well, ma'am."  Yet another difference between this world and his own.  Parents weren't -that- paranoid about such things.  Really.  Pedophilia?  Allen listened as the three of them walked off, once more leaving him to himself.  Really.  him?  Touch a child improperly?

The blonde sighed softly, running a hand through his hair.  Now what?  He couldn't get back home and Celena still had the cell phone Ethan had let them borrow... not that he'd know how to use it anyway.


	22. Braille 101, Kiss and Make Up

Note from the Authors: We apologize thoroughly for how convoluted the story gets from here. While there are important things that happen, we'd like to remind our audience – you meager few – that this was in fact a roleplay session (a really long one) and we just wanted to throw different situations in the way of the characters without really thinking of a good plot. It does get a bit better from here. But we leave that decision up to you. To those of you who have actually decided to read this story, thank you very much for you compliments. We're very glad this story is entertaining for *someone*.

I'm mostly speaking to Kenta D. Very kind of you to write so many reviews for us. Thank you. If you have any suggestions, please let us know. ^.^

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Braille 101 / Kiss and Make up**

Chris was busy working on resumes on the computer in Ethan's room.  He'd heard Celena come home but didn't think anything of it until much later when he actually left his cave and noticed that Allen was no where to be found. Knocking softly on his own bedroom door where Celena and the knight were staying, he got no reply and so opened the door.

"Celena," he said, speaking to the girl curled up on his bed with her back to him. There was no reply and at first he thought she was asleep. He could suddenly hear the music pumping from her earphones - from where he stood across the room. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he went and pulled one earphone out of her ear.

"Celena, where's your brother?" he asked frankly. Celena turned to look at Chris, something of a scowl on her face. 

"How should I know?" she pouted, yanking back the earphone and popping it back in. Another frustrated growl from Chris and he stalked after Ethan, pulling him out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

"Come on. We've got a knight that's missing." he said.

Ethan eeped, just barely having gotten home from the band practice.  He blinked, looking at his brother, slightly confused.  "Eh?  Where's Allen?"  The boy pouted, looking slightly worried.  "He was with Celena, wasn't he?  What happened?"

Allen rested beneath a tree, leaning against the trunk gently.  First he'd gotten into a vicious fight with his sister... then he was nearly accused to touching that young boy.  What a day.

Chris and Ethan quickly made their way over to the beach front, Chris having to explain the details of his suggestion for them to communicate and have some fresh air. Apparently it'd taken a turn for the worse, and now the searched frantically along the beach for a glimpse of the blind knight. Finally spotting him beneath a palm, Chris ran over first, looking over his new friend for any sign of harm.

 "Allen, are you alright? What happened between you and your sister?" he asked frantically.

Allen lifted his head slightly, standing and turning towards them.  He arched a brow a little at the worried tone, then smiled softly.  He seemed pretty fine, really.  "Ah?  Yes, I'm fine..."

Ah, yes, that business with Celena.  "There was a bit of an argument, I'm afraid.  And, well... it should be obvious enough that I was left here.  Granted, it was stupid of myself to, in my anger, tell her to go."

"Man," Chris said with a shake of his head, "You guys really have some issues about solving your problems."

"Mm... indeed, we do."  Allen smiled softly, nodding a little.  It was true enough, he wouldn't bother denying that.  "I assume she's still rather irritated, hm?"

"Well, a little." admitted the older man. He gently took Allen's hand and placed it to grab his upper arm. "We know about your appointment at the library though. Did you still want to go?"

"Mm?  Actually, yes.  It might be good to give Celena a little more time to calm down."  Allen nodded slightly, lightly grasping Chris' upper arm, Ethan at his other side.

Chris looked at Ethan, "I guess we're walking to the Library from here."

"Ah..."  Ethan grinned a little, nodding.  "Yeah, I guess so.  We didn't think to bring the car, we were just wanting to find you."

Without much else to be said, the two brothers escorted Allen along the sidewalks again, making sure to go slowly - just for the sake of company, because it seemed to Chris that the knight needed some sort of companionship before being deposited with yet another stranger. As they approached the Library, Chris asked, "Do you remember who you were supposed to meet?"

Allen appreciated the gesture.  He knew they could have gone faster and he understood why they didn't.  Very appreciated.  Allen turned his head towards Chris, nodding slightly,  faint smile on his lips.  "Sarah Mills."  The name was unfamiliar spoken by him, the words... he wasn't used to speaking names like that.  Ethan grinned a bit.  

"You're doing better than I would have.  I'd have forgotten by now."

"You forget things 10 minutes after someone says it to you," mused Chris to his brother. He grinned, entering the cool indoors of the Library and leading the knight inside passed the security panels. "Alright, we're inside. Do you want us to help you find her or do you think you can handle it from here?"

Ethan nudged Chris, pouting a little, though not really offended.  "Neh... that was mean, Chris."

Allen arched a brow, then smiled slightly.  "It might be best if, since this is the first time I've been here, you aid me in finding her, if it's not too much trouble."

"Oh, pff, it's not like we have lives or anything.  We're not doing anything important."

"Except trying to find a job," said Chris bitterly, "I hate making resumes. But anyway, okay, we'll help you find her. Come on, Ethan. Keep up." He tugged Allen along slowly through the library, down the isles of books and to the back where there were cubicles for group and individual study. Only one person sat there on a nice summer day like this, and it was a woman. "Ah . . . I think we found her."

Ethan grinned a little, walking with them, looking around.  He peeked over Allen's shoulder, nodding.  "Yeah, let's hope it is, eh?"

They led Allen over to her and Ethan spoke up when they neared her.  "Um... excuse me, are you Sarah Mills?"  The boy smiled a little, looking at the woman expectantly.

The woman looked up slightly, moving her hands away from the Braille book she'd been reading. She couldn't have been older than thirty years old, fine shoulder length hair of a ginger color left loosely about her head. "Yes, I am." She took a moment to turn her head from side to side, smiling, "Is one of you my new student?" 

"Ah, yes.  Allen is," said Ethan, tugging the blonde forward.  He put Allen's hand on the woman's, a smile on his lips.  "He is, right there."

"Ah, afternoon, ma'am," he murmured softly, smiling a little.  Ethan grinned.  He always had to be a gentleman, didn't he?  It was amusing, really.  There were so few, after all.

"Oh, good afternoon," she smiled, impressed with such etiquette. "Well, find a seat and we can start."

Chris smiled, taking his brother's sleeve and tugging him away, but not before pressing his cell phone into Allen's hand. "Here's my cell. To call Nikki's phone, just press and hold down the first button and it should automatically start dialing. Got it?"

Allen smiled a little, taking a seat as he had been bidden.  He nodded to Chris' instruction.  "Thank you, Chris."  He turned his head towards the woman as he heard the two boys begin to head off.  "Thank you for taking part of your time with this, I thoroughly appreciate it."

Ethan grinned fiendishly as he walked out with his brother.

"Of course," said Sarah kindly, smiling. "And you're name is Allen, right?"

Allen smiled a little, inclining his head.  "It is, yes."

"Okay, and you know that my name is Sarah. You can just call me by my first name." she said, "Have you ever felt Braille before?"

"Very well," he murmured, nodding his head slightly.  "Well... there was a book my sister borrowed from here with it, so I've felt it.  But other than just how it feels, I know nothing about it."

Sarah smiled kindly again, "That's not a problem. Just starting with the very basics today anyway." She carefully moved next to Allen, taking a seat and scooting her books in Braille in front of them. "Just want to make sure, you don't feel odd about someone else touching you, do you?"

"Hm?  No, by now, I'm used to it."  Allen smiled softly, nodding to her.  Between Gaddes, Celena, and now Ethan, Chris and Nikki, he was definitely used to it.

"Okay, good. 'Cause otherwise we'd have a problem." She laughed a bit, reaching out and finding his shoulder, and slowly following that toward his right hand. "Okay, here we go. I'm just going to show you the alphabet for now. When we're done, you can take the card home and practice. I'll even give you an easy book to try until we meet again next week. Okay?"

Allen chuckled a little.  "Yes, that sounds rather good."  He let her guide his hand over the bumps on the card.  It felt odd to know that these were letters he was learning, these bumps.

Sarah went over each of the letters a few times with him, careful not to obstruct his fingertip from the line of letters. She made him repeat each letter out loud and before long, she was quizzing him on each symbol. After working at it for an hour and a half, he'd already nearly memorized it - but she knew that he would forget if he didn't practice.

"You're doing really well for your first time. You sister told me that you're new to all of this," she said conversationally, releasing his hand and sitting back.

"Well... I lost might sight about a year ago, so I've gotten used to being so.  But reading was always a passion of mine.  I suppose that's one reason why I'm picking it up a little quickly."  Just the prospect of being able to read again... it was utterly fascinating.  He rested his hands lightly on his thighs, head slightly bowed.

Sarah hummed kindly, enjoying the sound of his voice. "I understand exactly how you feel. I love to read. Mystery and science fiction, really. But if there's a new book out there, I'm probably the first one to buy it in Braille." She giggled slightly, showing her youth.

Allen smiled a bit, inclining his head.  "I've always been a fan of histories."  And battle tactics, but he wouldn't talk about that.  Their military was likely to be far too different from the one he was used to.  "And philosophy. especially when I was younger."

"Philosophy and history is heavy stuff," she said, closing her books and stacking them on the table, "When you were younger? How old are you?"

"Ah?  I'm in my twenty-fourth year, now.  Not very old, I know."  Allen smiled sheepishly, shaking his head.  "I was really into philosophy when I was around... twelve or thirteen, I think."

"My goodness. You must be the studious type then." she grinned, fingering through the stack of books and feeling for titles which might interest him. "Oh, here's one you might like." She pulled it out and set it gently in front of him. "Celestine Prophecy. Or if you want, I have some fictional stories that might interest you."

"Mm?  I suppose.  I was raised on being intellectual."  Allen cocked his head to the side slightly, giving a soft smile, resting a hand on the book.  "Thank you... what is it about?"  The blonde just smiled, even if she couldn't see it.  Ah, yes... someone who understood what a loss it was to not be able to read...

Sarah smiled, "The Celestine Prophecy consists of nine insights on the spiritual awakening of the human race and its purpose on the planet. Like I said, philosophical stuff you might like. New Age literature." 

"Mm... definitely sounds interesting.  Thank you, I appreciate it."  Allen smiled softly, chuckling a little. 

"Here, take this one too. It's a simpler read, almost a children's book really. But it's just for practice." She smiled as she spoke, letting it show in her voice. Reaching for his arm, she asked, "Do you need help finding your way out, Allen?"

Allen turned his head slightly towards her, smiling softly, nodding.  "It would be appreciated.  Ah, yes... I should call Nikki first, too."  The blonde rifled around for the cell phone.  First button... he traced his thumb carefully over them, holding down the first button as he'd been told.  Then... cautiously lifted it to his ear.

After a few moments of ringing, the other end picked up with, "City Morgue!" It was Nikki, of course, with her ever drab and cynical tone of voice.

"Ah... Nikki?" he asked hesitantly.  Allen blinked, a little confused.  Hey, at least she wasn't yelling. 

"Oh, it's you. Ready to be picked up? Ethan or Chris will come by to get you. Just wait out front." she said it all very swiftly, before hanging up the phone.

Allen blinked, hanging up the phone.  He then smiled softly, nodding to Sarah, even if she couldn't see it.  "Ah... thank you for waiting."

"Oh, sure." she said, bringing up her cane and her bag over one shoulder. She felt around the air a bit before finding his arm. Deftly, she moved her cane hand to affix his hand on her own upper arm so that she was the leader. "Alright, where to?"

"Ah, just outside, actually.  Ethan or Chris are going to come by to lead me back home."

"Oh, good. Okay, here we go," She started off slowly down one of the isles of books, remembering that there were computer stations at the end. Her cane was long, so she was able to move faster through the library. The doors opened and a slight warm breeze indicated that they'd just stepped outside. "And we're here."

Allen smiled, sighing a little at the soft breeze outside.  It was nice, really, and rather interesting to know that here they were, two blind citizens, walking about as if there was nothing wrong, really.  "Ah?  Thank you, again, I really do appreciate this."

"No problem." she adjusted the pack over her shoulder again, removing herself from Allen's grasp tactfully and fixing her grip on the cane, "I walk home from here. Don't forget, come next week. And study the alphabet." Again, she was smiling as she spoke.

"I'll be sure to.  The quicker a get and keep a grasp on it, the better."  Allen just smiled softly.  He was pleased at this arrangement, it was obvious.

~

When Ethan brought Allen back home, Nikki was just getting off the phone with her other brother. She could tell that Allen was really pleased with himself, and automatically assumed that the Braille lessons had done some good. She went up to him and actually grinned, "Learning how to read then?"

"Mm?  Ah, yes.  It's exciting, really.  I always enjoyed reading... and here I am, getting the chance to get that back."  Allen smiled a bit, sitting lightly on the couch.  

Ethan grinned.  "It was great, he couldn't stop talking about it.  His instructor's blind, too."

"Well, the word 'duh' comes to mind." she said sarcastically. "Anyway, I'm glad you're learning how to read. I just got off the phone with Chris. He's at this place and he's trying to get some docs for our guests. Birth certificates and stuff, based on the info you've given us. Birthdays, weight, height - all that stuff's documented and kept on record," she explained.

"So you keep close watch on your citizenry, then?"  Allen arched a brow a bit.  That seemed almost like it was a bit much, really.

"Yeah, the government sucks. Referred to as 'The Man' . . . since it's a patriarchal society. I won't go into the details, but it's almost freakish how closely they watch you, your relatives, your jobs, your *pets* even have records." 

Allen frowned a bit.  "That seems a bit excessive.  But I suppose they have it for a reason."

"I wouldn't bother getting her started on the government."

"Yeah, I can go on for days about how much the government blows." Nikki admitted. Footsteps were heard coming down the stairs, and Nikki twisted around in her chair to see Celena coming down. She didn't say a word, however, and neither did the other girl. Allen's sister merely glanced at her brother before going into the kitchen and trying to find a snack.

Ethan bit down lightly on his bottom lip with the silence that passed between the siblings.  Then he spoke up.  "Um... I don't think he knows what you're talking about when you say something 'blows,' Nikki."  

The younger brother paused, then blinked.  "Actually, he probably doesn't want to, nevermind."

"Right," agreed Nikki, "So, um . . . what's for dinner? Anyone want pizza? Or Chinese?"

Allen stayed quiet, though if it was from Celena's reaction or from his ignorance on what either of those dishes were, it was hard to tell.  

"Um... pizza sounds good.  We might want to wait for Chris, though."

"Hey," she said to Allen, registering Celena looking up briefly from the kitchen, "Do you want to try some pizza?"

"Honestly, I've got no idea what it is."  Allen smiled a little sheepishly, turning his head towards her.

Ethan piped up, looking over at Celena.  "Hey, Celena?  You want to have pizza tonight?"

Celena slammed the door to the refrigerator, turning and taking a moment to find an adequate answer. "Is - *he* - coming with us?"

Ethan balanced slightly, starting to reply, but Allen beat him to it.

Allen arched a brow a bit, irritated.  "No, if you'd rather."  

Celena harrumphed, turned her head away and crossing her arms petulantly, "There's nothing to eat here." she admitted.

"Well... are we gonna go there or get it brought back here?"  Ethan glanced over at Nikki, arching a brow a bit.

Nikki grinned wickedly, "Let's go out. I feel like dancing."

"Ah...?"  Allen blinked slightly.  "What does eating have to do with, well... dancing?"  The blonde looked slightly confused.

"There's a pizza place that has a dance floor," explained the goth chick, who sometimes had her strange dance music streaks in her, "It's fun. You can eat pizza, play music, dance, play video games. . . Right, Ethan?"

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck lightly, nodding.  "Yeah, yeah.  Though Chris and I have a tendency to meander over to the videogames instead of dancing.  We have skinny white boy rhythm, it's embarrassing."

Chris finally came through the door, bearing a plump brown envelop in the crook of his arm. "Hey, guys." He held up the envelop and dropped it on the coffee table before sitting next to Allen with a huff of exhaustion, "Finally got those papers. Took forever. Over two weeks."

"We appreciate this, you know," murmured Allen softly a small smile on his lips.  Of course, they appreciated pretty much all of what they'd done for them.  Or at least Allen did.

"Oh, sure. No problem. I'll ask you to pay me back later." said Chris with a certain amount of cheek. Celena came over from the kitchen and took the envelop, looking through its contents.

"What's in here?" She asked, rifling through papers.

"Ah, birth certificates, residential alien cards - I mentioned that you would be from Italy or something, also got you . . . " Celena held up a nice white card with her picture on it, little reflecting images all across the front. "Yeah, a driver's license. Guess one of us will have to teach her eventually."

"Chris," said Nikki evenly, "With all due respect to you as my older brother, but are you nuts?"

Ethan blinked a bit.  "Um... are you sure that's alright?  I mean, she still gets scared of cars sometimes.  But to get her to drive one?"  He shook his head slightly, sighing a little.  "Oh, well... she can at least use it as an identification card, too.  But Chris... you get to teach her to drive.  I'm not doing it.  I'm skittish driving as it is."

The younger brother rubbed the back of his neck slightly.

Allen arched a brow.  "Is that really necessary...?  That amount of identification?"  It really did seem like it was a bit excessive.

"Sucks, kinda. Doesn't it?" said Chris, understand where the knight's mind was. The older brother assumed that the system of government where these two came from was much simpler than their republic democracy.

Celena wasn't really listening, "I get to drive a car?" she asked excitedly, her voice nearly squealing. Nikki stood up and took the card from her to put back in the envelope.

"For now, we're driving. Pizza and dancing. And I'm getting hungry. What about you Ethan?"

Allen nodded slightly, sighing.  "I don't even think the royal family demands to know of the children born within the country, much less keep records on so many things."  The knight pursed his lips slightly, thoughtfully.

Ethan blinked a bit, then nodded, grinning.  "Yeah... I'm starving, let's head out.  You good to go, Chris?"

"Yeah, I'm good." he said, standing. He gathered his coat and handed Nikki the keys to their only car, while he took the liberty of helping Allen into the backseat. "Hey, Nikki, take it easy for now. They've never been in the car before."

 "Yeah, yeah," she waved at him absently, waiting for Celena to sit in the back beside her brother and close the door. Once everyone was inside, she started the engine. Celena jumped slightly.

Ethan caught sight of Allen's reaction.  A slow quirking of his brow.  It was... sort of like being inside a melef.  Only quieter... more closed in.  And far more roomy.  

 The younger brother grinned a little, making sure both the siblings were buckled up before he settled back.

On the way there, Celena's head inadvertently found itself leaning towards Allen's shoulder - as it was such a habit for her to do so. Chris noticed this but said nothing. Nikki was too occupied with changing the music on the car stereo.

 "Would you just *pick* one?" said Chris annoyedly. Nikki huffed, and settled on more ye olde Linkin Park, grinning into the rear view mirror at Celena - she knew the girl liked them.

Allen was silent, meanwhile tracing his thumb over the Braille card he had in hand.  A soft smile tugged at his lips.  He'd be able to read again.

 Ethan groaned a little.  "Honestly, can we listen to something different for once?  Like... just maybe the 2nd album?  Or a different band?"

Despite all the harsh words they had exchanged earlier that day, Celena pushed it passed her - or tried to. Her favorite band from this world wasn't too loud so that they couldn't hear the comfortable muffled silence within the car. It was soothing to her. Slowly, her heart clenching, she placed her hand on Allen's. 

"You know, I'm gonna have to agree with Ethan this time. Put on Rob Zombie or at least something else." said Chris. Nikki snorted and began working the CD changer, much to her chagrin.

"Flogging Molly!"  Ethan waved his arms a bit, grinning fiendishly.  "C'mon!  They're awesome!"

Allen smiled a little, the movement of his thumb pausing.  Well, at least she wasn't hitting him or screaming at him all over again.  The knight sighed softly, but didn't bother to say anything.

So the Schezars were finally introduced to the wonders of Pizza, sitting at a large table where two delicious steaming flat bread pies were placed, covered in melted cheese, onions, mushrooms, and sausage. The other was plain pepperoni and cheese. The music was loud but happy, the kinds of beat that really make you want to get up and dance. But for the most part, all five of them stayed content with their pizza.

Celena actually seemed sociable again, having served Allen a couple slices of the strange cuisine - one of each kind so that he could try them both. She was already half-way through one slice of the onions and mushrooms, having to talk around a mouthful of food. "Thif if so goo . . ." she tried. Chris laughed and ate his own pizza. Nikki just sat there nibbling and looking sardonic.

Allen nodded slightly.  "It's definitely far different from what we're used to.  It is rather good, I must admit."  A slight smile lingered on his lips.

Ethan grinned a bit.  "It's great when you want something fast.  Refrigerate it and eat it cold... ah, that's when it's the best!  Cold pizza is, like... a delicacy!"  The younger brother laughed a little, shaking his head.

The music was uplifted, and soon all the demons of the day had been forgotten for the younger Schezar. Not too long after she'd finished her second slice and swallowed, that she began to nudge at Allen playfully.

Nikki got up, having waited for everyone else to finish before being annoying again. "Come on! Dancing time!" she pulled on her younger brother's arm - because she knew he was the most easy to convince, as he was the youngest.

Allen turned his head towards his sister at her insistent nudging.  "Hm?" he asked questioningly.

Ethan whined quietly.  "Nyoo... not dancing!  You want me to make a fool out of myself, I don't want to!"

Nikki successfully dragged him out of the booth, all the way to the floor complete with his whining. She ignored him, and only continued to grin as she braced her arms around him like a vice so that he couldn't go anywhere.

Ethan whined, pouting over at her.  "Unfair," he murmured.

Celena whispered into Allen's ear, "Can we dance too?"

Allen arched a brow.  "I've never been one for it..."  Her brother turned his head towards her, blinking a little.  He'd never really liked those balls.  And he avoided dancing when he could.

"Please," she said softly against his lobe, tickling his ear with her breath, "will you dance with me? A slow dance?" Chris only rolled his eyes, waiting for the opportune moment if Allen wasn't going to chance it.

Allen sighed softly, resting a hand on her upper arm.  "I'm sure there are others who would rather dance with you.  I've just never been up for dancing, really.  I'm not very good at it."

Chris arched his eyebrow, taking the ponytail out of his delightfully brown curls and moving out of the booth, "I'll dance with you, Celena." He smiled at her, sweetly too - which was unusual.

Celena looked up at him, then back to her brother, who continued to stare ahead at nothing with a set look on his face. She sighed slightly, and accepted Chris' hand. As she was led to the dance floor, she kept looking back at Allen, longingly. 

"Thank you, Chris." She said softly, looking down at her feet while they danced to the slowish song.

"My pleasure," he said, smiling. His smile was very lovely, Celena had to admit. It only made her heart ache, though. Still, she tried to mirror his intentions all the same.

Allen sighed softly, bowing his head a little.  He hadn't wished to dance.  And on top of that, he'd wanted to test out the Braille more.  He knew she wanted to dance with him, and the reasoning behind it, but he couldn't help it.  He couldn't dance horribly well and when he did, he rarely enjoyed it.

 Sliding his fingers over the card in his hand, Allen let a small smile linger on his lips.  He'd be able to read again.  The thrill of that thought flickered through him gleefully, leaving him nothing short of excited.


	23. A Shred of Hope

Author's note: For those of you who get annoyed easily by mistakes in details, I apologize in advance. My knowledge of swordplay is limited to what little research I was able to do online, and from an outside source whom I sometimes bother with inane questions about the difference between a rapier and a sword rapier. 

  
That said, on with the story.

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**A Shred of Hope**

While everyone else had fun at dinner, Celena thought it was a bit of a let down - though she was glad they were able to take the pizza home with them to eat later. The majority of the household were nightowls, but Celena was still used to turning in early, so she went to bed quietly, dressed in nothing more than a long t-shirt. She was determined. She wanted to have a good time with Allen, but he was always occupied with other thoughts. He had angered her with his old fashioned thinking, but she still loved him . . . 

And for reasons she couldn't explain, she *wanted* him . . . 

Allen was quiet, speaking with Ethan for a long while before he retired for the night.  He slid quietly inside the room he shared with his sister, a soft sigh on his lips as he got ready for bed.  Her vulgarity had startled and, really, disgusted him.  He'd raised her since he'd gotten her back to be a lady and then all of a sudden, it had been pushed aside.  It was a different world, but still... to think of him tossing away his ideals, his mannerisms, to change in that manner, well, Allen couldn't see that ever happening.

Ethan had taken up sleeping on the couch so his brother could use the bed in his room... but this night, that point was argued.  He'd share a bed with his brother, then.  A little illogically nervous about the thought of it, Ethan retreated to his room before his brother, taking a shower and tugging on his boxers for bed.  Normally, he slept unclothed, but now... he couldn't, not with his brother there.

"Allen," she whispered in the dark, watching him undress with nothing but the little moonlight that came through the window. "We need to talk, Allen." she said seriously, and she couldn't recall any other time when she'd felt so serious.

Allen arched a brow slightly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, sliding under the covers gently.

As usual, she attached herself to his warm muscled frame, burying her face in his backside. She rested her cheek against the skin, "Allen? Are you even listening to me?"

"I am, of course."  Allen nodded slightly, smiling a little.  "I usually do."

"Okay, good," she affirmed, closing her eyes, "A couple things I wanted to talk about then. . . first about today. And how sorry I am."

"It's alright, Celena... both of us have been tense because of the occurrences."

She bit her lip and relented with the next topic, "The other thing . . ."

"What is it?"  Allen asked quietly, blinking a little.

She squeezed him tightly, not really wanting to say it but just wanting to let him *know* what she felt, and what she wanted. Her hands had been stroking his chest, smooth and perfect as it was. Soon they wandered lower, letting her soft hands rest gently on the curve of his hip. She sat up a bit, leaning down towards his ear and whispered, "I want you . . . now."

Allen tensed a little, starting slightly.  Here?  Now?  "Celena, we can't... this isn't our bed..."  The blonde felt a flicker of panic flutter through him.  Here?  With the others so nearby?  When did she get so bold...?

"Please?" she begged softly, nibbling his ear and letting her hands trail down a little lower on his stomach.

Allen grasped her wrists to stop her.  "We can't here..."  It was too risky.  Too damn risky...

Celena pouted, grinning slightly. Her fingers stretched and wriggled as the reached and found a sensitive spot on Allen's lower abdomen. "Why not?" she asked.

Allen pulled slightly away from her, pushing her hands up away from him as he forced back the laughter.  "Stop it, Celena.  I've told you why not."

"Okay," she relented, tracing her lips down his side, drinking in the smooth skin. She placed little tender kisses upon his flesh there near his hip. "How about just a little fun then?"

"Celena, please... just stop."  Allen sighed softly, tugging her up, putting his arms around her loosely.

"But why?" she asked, and now she truly was concerned. She had been in fine spirits just a second ago, playful and frisky - and for some reason, he didn't want to. She pouted again, letting her fingers be content with the feel of his warm flesh. 

"I just don't want to right now."  He sighed softly, resting his chin on top of her head.  "I'm sorry..."

Celena groaned, pressing her cheek against his chest. "Ugh, I don't know why but I *really* want to . . ."

"Maybe it's because we haven't.  I don't know."  He gently stroked her hair, his eyes softly closed.

Oh, how she was tempted to tease him - to *feel* his manhood . . . as odd of a thought as that was. She knew it would be soft like the rest of him, though she didn't know why. So she'd wanted to find out. Why is it that she always did and he didn't? "Can't we just play a little bit?" she begged softly.

Allen sighed softly, his eyes closed.  "Must we?"  He was weary, from the varied amounts of excitement... and disappointment during the day.  He continued to softly stroke her hair.

Celena let out a frustrated breath, "No, we don't have to."

"I'm sorry, Celena, I really am..." he hugged her close, sighing a little.

"It's okay," she lied, settling herself in his warmth and hold, "Why don't you ever want to? It seems like every time I want to finally do it - you don't. Do you find me attractive anymore, even if you can't see me?"

"Of course I do, Celena."  He sighed, frustrated.  "I just don't feel the need to."  An odd thing, considering his past habits.  But even still... so many things had changed.

"Does - does that mean we won't ever . . .?" She whispered, slightly horrified.

"I never said we wouldn't, Celena, just calm down."

"Oh," she said, not really comforted by what he'd said. She sighed again, only it was a little gentler this time, only tracing her hot breath across his chest in soothing waves of heat. "You saw the tutor today. I saw you holding a card with Braille on it. Can you read it?"

"Only a few letters currently."  Allen smiled a little.  "She's blind as well.  It was... it was nice, really.  Just think, soon enough I'll be able to read again, Celena..."

"So that's what you're so excited about," she smiled in response to his happiness, "Maybe your thoughts keep you from wanting to bed me."

Allen sighed softly, shaking his head a little.  "I can't wait.  It's been so long since I've been able to read anything."

"You'll read, brother," she reassured him, giving him some tender little kisses on his chest, "And then you can read to me . . . And then maybe you can bed me." She grinned in the dark.

"Oh, would you stop it with that?"  Honestly.  He sighed a bit.  

"What?" she said innocently, "I'm only teasing you."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." she sighed again, settling her head finally. "Let's just - go to sleep . . ."

Allen shook his head a little, keeping his arms a little.  Good.  Sleep.  He rested his chin on top of her head again.  "Good night, Celena..."

~

Time passes without so much of a glimmer of hope for home and safe return. Not that Celena minded, as she'd begun to warm up to this strange new place called Earth - what with discus the play music, Linkin Park, and pizza. She still pestered her brother to get a cell phone. Allen had been occupied in his thoughts too, and his obsession with learning Braille and reading. Sarah Mills was a very patient teacher.

It wasn't before long that Allen was able to read the simple children's books in that miraculous raised lettering - within two months, to be exact. He was, of course, thrilled, finding that his favorite hobby on this planet was reading. Now that he could again, anyway. Chris had braved showing Celena how to drive a car after she'd badgered him enough. In the end, it was not unlike controls for a melef, of which she knew how to pilot.

It was just a matter of those silly lines on the road that she had a problem with. 

Chris had suggestion, once they're paperwork was all sorted, albeit illegally, that they try to find work - preferably under the table. Then he had to explain what 'under the table' meant. Nikki was able to help out Celena in finding the silver haired girl a job, so Celena was able to help out at the coffee shop - it was the one thing she could make well that she didn't burn.

The time eventually came when the three Terran siblings decided the Schezars had overstayed their welcome. Well, that and Chris just *really* wanted his room back. So they also helped in finding a small apartment for them, with a loft. It was a tiny place, just a studio sized apartment and affordable enough for Celena since she'd started working with Nikki. It was quite literally two blocks away from the beach.

Chris and Ethan were very charitable with the furnishings. Their late uncle had died three years before and left them the town house they now live in. But he also left behind furniture that they had no use for. So it only ended up in storage. That was quickly donated to the Schezars, as well as extra comforters and a dresser for them to share. It was more than enough. 

For once, it was Celena that was supporting Allen, instead of the other way around.  He'd go to Braille classes with Sarah, his progression rather quick.  He was excited, thoroughly, and would read out the simplest things to his sister.  A childish enjoyment.  But he was delighted by it and once more he would speak with smiles and grins, animated.  He got more and more used to this place, and no longer needed as much aid as he did before--though he still needed a bit of it to get around.

 Ethan made sure to visit the Schezars a lot, hanging out and laughing, chatting away.  He found an odd kind of brotherhood in Allen and they shared little secrets with one another and would laugh about them later.  He was glad to see the siblings getting along again, though they did still have their occasional fights.  But who didn't?  Ethan made it known, quietly, to Allen that he found his sister intimidating.  He'd blush and wave his hands about, pouting.  "She's just so mean.  Sometimes it seems like she hates me."

But Allen would laugh and say that it was just how siblings were.  That's all it was, wasn't it?  

The good thing about their little studio apartment was that it had a spacious window in it. The bed faced it, and in the mornings, the sun would shine gently upon them as they slept. It warmed Celena's bare shoulder and made her eyes flutter open. She smiled, of course, when she saw Allen's slumbering face just across from her. The warmth of the sun, and the soft blankets that covered them made Celena feel - light headed.

 Gently, she leaned over to him and kissed his lips to wake him. "You should wake up now," she said gently.

Allen shifted a little, an arm draped about her waist.  "Mm...?  Morning already, is it?"  The knight sighed, stretching a little, a faint smile on his lips.  It was nice, really, the place they'd gotten.  It was nice to live on their own, to not have to hide anything.

She giggled softly, amused as he stretched, and decided to place more velvety kisses upon his face. "If you don't get up, I might do something nasty." she threatened.

"And I'd believe it, mm?"  He didn't know what her obsession, really, was with such things recently, but she'd gotten less and less subtle about it.  He leaned over, kissing her cheek gently as he sat up with a quiet yawn.

She fell back on the bed, throwing the covers over her dramatically. "Darn." she let out with a huff. Allen smiled slightly and stood, stretching a little more before shuffling over to the dresser and grabbing some clothes.  Morning was always a little hard for him.  Not because he ached or any of that... just because they were mornings.

"So what will you wear today?" she asked, lounging on the bed and propping her elbow as she leaned her head into her hand. "Black, grey, black or gray?"

"Oh, hush, you.  At least this way I don't have trouble matching, mm?"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt you to wear a little blue now and then." she argued validly, getting out of bed herself with nothing on but a night shirt. She stretched and yawned loudly. "Mm, work. Fun."

"Maybe eventually."  Allen shrugged a little, sighing softly.  He liked the way he dressed, even if it wasn't colorful.  At all.  Ethan seemed to approve, anyway.  "Well, just think of the money you're making doing it."

"Which reminds me . . ." she put a hand on her hip, her eyes narrowing upon her brother.

He was, of course, oblivious to the actions as he started dressing.  "Hm?"  Allen tugged a t-shirt on, turning his head towards her.  

"Have you thought about what to do to earn money yet?" she asked, "I mean, I can't keep paying for everything, you know . . ."

"Well, what is there for me to do?"  Allen shook his head slightly, sighing.

"I was actually thinking about that," Celena tried hopefully, approaching him like a wife and wrapping her arms about his waist. It made him stop buckling his pants for a moment, "Have you thought of teaching?"

Allen paused, arching a brow.  "Teaching what?  There's nothing I can teach..."  The blonde shook his head slightly.

"Didn't Chris ever show you his sword collection?" 

"Ah, no, but what does that have to do with teaching?  And I couldn't see the collection anyhow, you know."

Celena grinned again, taking his hand and poking him in his palm. "By 'see' I mean this kind." She chuckled a bit, dropping his hand and moving to pick out her own clothes. "Honestly, sometimes you can be so dense."

"Well?  What does that have to do with teaching?"  Allen sighed heavily, shaking his head a bit.

She brought out some pants to wear, black cargo pants with rings around the waist band, and a small black shirt. "If people collect swords here," she said while stepping into the pants, "Then they would probably be curious to use them, don't you think?"

"But didn't they say that actually wielding them is illegal?"  Allen cocked his head to the side a little.  "Unless, of course, there's a demand for fencing.  Because I can certainly do that."

Celena was getting excited herself, zipping up her pants and throwing on her shirt quickly. She went and picked up the packet of information that Chris was nice enough to give her the day before. "I've got all the information right here. They have tournaments."

"Ah?  Well... I'm sure I could manage that."  Allen smiled softly.  He could take up his swordplay again.  What more could he ask for?  The blonde turned towards his sister, holding out his arms.  "Come here, you."

She squealed delightedly and ran into his arms, squeezing him. "Oh, Allen! It'll be just fine, you'll see."

Allen laughed softly, hugging her close, brushing his lips against her forehead.  "Reading and swordplay!  It's like I'm getting my old life back!"  

"So - does that mean we can start making out now?" She grinned.

Allen sighed, thwapping her lightly, playfully on the head.  "Oh stop that, you.  Don't you have work?"  He smiled a little, shaking his head at her.

"In an hour." She kissed him quickly, jumping onto the bed. "Until then, I'm all yours . . . rrrarr."

Allen just grinned over at her.  "Read what it says to me, the pamphlet.  Please?"  

Celena sighed, rolling onto her back and lifting the pamphlet in front of her, "Fencers of America - tutors wanted, training in foils, rapiers, sabers, katanas and wakazashis, xians . . . blah, blah." she sighed, "Do I have to read the whole thing? They're just looking for good instructors on all this stuff."

"Well, where is it for?  And when do they want them by?"  Allen grinned excitedly, perking a bit.  He could do this, he knew he could.

"It says here they want to prepare for a winter tournament. . . which is in five months." She said, counting the months in her head.

Allen nodded slightly, pursing his lips.  "I'd best start up practicing all over again, then.  I'll just have to find a place where I can."  Allen grinned a little.  Maybe he could get Chris to come too.  Maybe he'd enjoy it.

"Practicing swordplay again." tsked the comely girl on the bed. "What of your precious reading?"

"Oh, of course I'll be reading as well.  Don't you think for a moment, I'd give that up."

She put her hands up in defeat. "No, no no. Of course not." She scrambled onto her knees, kneeling in front of him on all fours like a cat, "Can I help you practice too?"

Allen shrugged slightly.  "It all depends on where I'm going to take up practicing.  I can't practice it here.  And doing it outside would just get me arrested."

"I'm sure that Chris will think of something." she tried, crawling over towards him and grabbing his middle so that he fell onto the bed.

Allen started a little, then fumbled, pulling himself away from her, standing.  "Ne~h... I'll have to ask him about it.  And if nothing else, he can join in, too.  He likes sword so much, he might as well learn how to use one."

"Right." she nodded, falling back onto the bed, dismayed. "One hour. No kisses . . . no love . . . Celena is sad."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, Celena."  Allen pouted a little, turning his head towards her.

"Why?" she shrugged, "Either way, I don't get what I want."

Allen sighed, turning and stalking out of the room, snatching up his cane.  Thankfully their apartment wasn't too far from the place they'd stayed at with Chris and the others.  And he knew his way well enough there.

~

"Allen, what are you doing here?" It was Chris who answered the door, both Nikki and Ethan gone to their own jobs. "Aren't you usually in the library by this time?"

"Ah, Celena told me about the pamphlets you'd given her.  About the tournament?  And, well... I can't practice swordplay outside or in the apartment.  I was wondering if you knew a place where I might?  I've been out of it for so long that I'm not sure I'm as good as I was."

"Swords? Oh! Oh, yeah - yeah, you can practice just in the back of our house, the little grassy area there is private." he said.

"Ah?  Thank you.  And, well, I was wondering that since you like swords so much, would you wish to learn to use them?"

Chris' eyes widened a bit. "Use them - like . . . for real?"

Allen smiled softly, nodding.  "I doubt you'll have any real reason for it here, but still.  I'd be more than willing to teach you."

"Oh, my . . . " He didn't even finish his sentence. He bolted upstairs to his room, grabbed a few swords from the rack and was back downstairs in front Allen before the blind man would know he'd gone anywhere. "When do we start?"

Allen laughed a bit, waving a hand.  "Those are more decorative than anything.  Likely if we use them, they'll break.  I have the one brought with me from my world.  However, if we look hard enough, I'm sure we might be able to find one in that collection of yours worth using."

"Then by all means, please, come in." He let the knight walk in passed and closed the door behind him. Once upstairs, he was bringing out rapiers and boken from every little corner of his room. "How will you be able to tell?"

Allen smiled, going over different points that would hint to them being decorative or actually useful.  He traced his fingers over the lengths of them, carefully taking a few swings with them.  The majority were set aside, until he came to one, a fine bladed rapier that Allen tested against his own.  The blonde smiled a bit, nodding approvingly.  He held the sword out to Chris, gently holding it near the base of the blade with the hilt towards him.  "See if it's light enough and if it feels comfortable enough."

"O-Okay." he said, taking the hilt and testing the weight. A couple experimental bobs of his arm, and a swing or two, and he was hooked. He wanted to do this. And this was the perfect sword. "Perfect," he said to him.

Allen smiled a bit, nodding to him.  "Good, good... now all we have to do is get my own sword over here and we can start."  Allen himself was excited.  He always loved practicing his swordplay, it was wonderful.  And it wasn't like he couldn't do it, even after he was blinded.

"Isn't your sword in your cane?" asked Chris, already engrossed in several fantasies of him becoming a swashbuckler.

"Oh, not that one.  The one I brought with me from Asturia.  That's the one I prefer.  And this one wouldn't be any good with actual handling as we're going to do.  Something quick would be easy and it would work."  Allen shrugged a little, smiling.  "My rapier is far more suited to me."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot you still had that one." he said, putting his own rapier back in its sheath. "So, when did you want to start teaching? I mean, officially for those people? 'Cause I remember where they're headquarters are in town."

Allen cocked his head to the side a little.  "Well, they'd likely want to see a little bit of my skill, so I was thinking I'd practice a little first, just to get used to it all over again."

"Alright, Allen. You know where I live. Did you guys get a cell phone yet?" he asked him, starting to gather his swords and put them back into his closet. Of course, he left his hand picked rapier out of the closet.

"Not yet.  I'd figure we'd best get funds from both of us before we get one.  After all you aid we'd have to pay a monthly bill, right?  So we'd have that, as well as the rent money and Celena can't continue to support us both like this."

Chris clapped Allen on the shoulder, "You should apply for the teaching job. If you're really from the kind of world you say you are - they'd be stupid not to hire you."

Allen smiled softly, nodding.  "I can only hope they wouldn't shut me out simply for my blindness."

Chris stopped, his grin slowly fading as he sank down onto his bed, "Oh, geez. I didn't even think of that."

Allen nodded slightly, running a hand through his hair.  "I would only hope they'd be more open-minded, however, I can see where the risk might come in.  If you cannot see, then you cannot know where your student is and it would be a little difficult not to harm them.  As well as the fact that I would have a slight problem knowing what they were doing wrong if it wasn't something I had seen or experienced myself."

"There's always shadowfencing." Chris shrugged.

Allen arched a brow slightly.  He'd never heard the term before.  "What?"

"Um, Shadowfencing. It's where you . . . and the student . . . Oh, here." And he got up, moving behind Allen, putting his arms along where Allen's were, his body nearly pressed against the other man's, "Like this. And they follow you this way . . ."

Allen nodded slightly, a faint smile on his lips.  "True enough, then... that would be far less dangerous.  And earier to tell what they're doing wrong."

The older gentleman removed himself from Allen's space, moving in front of him again. "So, you see? You can do it just fine."

Allen smiled softly, nodding a bit.  "They'd likely use dulled blades, as well.  The blonde pursed his lips slightly, thoughtfully.  

"Right," agreed the brunette. Then he too became thoughtful, fidgeting a bit with his hands, looking at the ground. "So, Allen," he began timidly, "How are things with your sister?"

Allen arched a brow slightly... then sighed, shaking his head.  "It's still a little strenuous between us, but the frustration is beginning to ease a little."

"Hmm, yes . . . Well, I was wondering, Allen," he said, still timidly and desperately trying to remember how this was done in all of those books he'd read. He had to be formal to this man before him, because otherwise it would just be rude. His brow furrowed in concentration, "Sir Allen, might I . . . that is, could I possibly ask your permission . . ."

Allen waited calmly, a soft smile on his lips.  He had an idea of just what was going to be asked, but he stayed silent.  He didn't say anything, still standing calmly before him.

The look on his face, Chris thought, he must know. He was nearly sweating from the nervousness, taking a deep breath before continuing, "May I court Celena?"

"You are a good man, Chris.  You've helped us very much, innumerable times and I can't thank you enough, ever.  While I am her older brother and while it usually works this way in our lands and obviously something here... it is not my decision to make.  If she chooses to, then I will approve of it.  I do not think you would do her any harm."

Chris let out a breath that he'd been holding unawares, his shoulders slumping from the relief of Allen's words. "Ah - thank you. Yes, I guess I'll just ask her out on a date." He smiled happily.

Allen smiled softly, nodding to him.  He could feel the other's relief.  She was a pretty thing, wasn't she?  He could see why it was that what...?  2 people now had asked him the same thing?

"Uh - should I escort you out? Or did you want to hang out for a bit?" Chris asked.

"Mm?  No, no, it's fine.  Are you doing anything tomorrow?  I'm completely free, so if you'd wish to start up practicing, I would be more than happy to do so."

"Awesome! Yeah, I'm totally there." he said excitedly, following Allen downstairs.

Allen smiled softly, nodding to him, walking calmly.  "I'll warn you that I might be a bit shaky with it at first.  I haven't practiced in awhile, after all."

"Oh, yeah - no problem." He opened the front door for his friend. "I'll be here tomorrow. Unemployment sucks that way."

Allen laughed a little, nodding to him.  "Tomorrow, then."  The blonde turned, walking quietly out and heading back to the apartment he and his sister shared.


	24. In The Night

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**In The Night**

It was after the requisite 8 hours of work that Celena was finally able to drag or feet through the door of their studio apartment. She needed a shower, though the smell of coffee emanating from her didn't exactly smell bad. She was just sick of it. She ran a hand through her short curls, having kept it short with a pair of scissors every time she noticed it getting longer than she would have liked.

Letting out a sigh, she came through the tiny kitchen and into the main room/bedroom/living room area. "I'm home." she said, falling on the bed.

Allen glanced sightlessly over from his perch on the windowsill, near the window he couldn't see out of.  It was still comfortable.  A small book was in hand, his fingers trailing over the slight bumps.  A small smile lingered on his lips as she entered and he inclined his head a bit, recalling the earlier conversation with Chris.  "It seems like so long that you're gone, you know..."

"Yeah," came her muffled reply from her face buried into the bedcovers. She turned over so that she was on her back, letting out a heavy sigh, "I'm really tired. What are you reading now?" she asked.

Allen smiled sheepishly.  "I'm struggling my way through the Celestine Prophecy.  Sarah suggested it back when we first started."  

"Ah," she looked over to him, "Can you even understand it yet?"

"Mm?  Bits of it.  I'm forcing myself through it.  What bits of it I can get are rather interesting."

Celena let out a huff, "Well, I'm glad one of us is having fun."

"Is it really that bad?  The tournament is in about five months and I'm going to practice with Chris for a bit before I apply within the city."

Celena sat up, her eyes gazing hungrily over her brother - though she didn't let it show in her voice, "That's fantastic. I know you'll do well."

Allen smiled softly.  "I certainly hope so.  I have misgivings, but both you and Chris seem to think I'll do fine."

Standing slowly, she went over to him by the windowsill, the dimming light of the sunset framing her brother in a fiery glow, making his golden hair look almost red. He was really beautiful, she thought. "Well, why would I think less of not only my brother, but the greatest swordsman in all of Gaea?"

Allen laughed softly, shaking his head.  "There are those within the knighthood who could surely defeat me."  He set the book aside, putting his arms about her waist and pulling her close.

There was enough room on the sill for both she and her brother, and she was glad for it when he embraced her. Sitting by him, she snuggled fondly, letting her hand trail along his abdomen. Despite all of their fights, all of their sorrows and hardships - even his depression and blindness . . . by the gods, she was in love with him. She truly could not care for a man any more than she did for Allen, her brother. "Have I ever told you - how I'm so very proud of you?" she whispered.

Allen smiled softly, resting his head on her shoulder gently.  "No.  Tell me..."  He held her close despite the argument that morning, his eyes closed

The hand that had been stroking his middle lifted to his face, the side that faced the window, his ear touched by the light and now by the gentle fingers of her hand. She pushing his hair behind that ear, letting her hand trail down his neck so that she could stroke him there too. It was very intimate, and very loving. 

 "You have mastered so many things, Allen," she began fondly. "You did not let anything get in your way. You have become a swordsman. You are still a knight. You have learned how to read again, how live again. Allen, how could I love you any less? Your eyes might not work, but you see things with your heart and mind. That's what matters."

Allen smiled softly at the words as he listened, head tipped slightly to the side, into her touch.  His eyes were still closed, though it wasn't necessary.  Has he really accomplished so much?  He had to wonder, then, just why he was so hard on himself... A soft sigh slipped from his lips, that smile still lingering.  She was proud of him.  That was what mattered.

"Have you been depressed lately?" Her voice came softly, wary of his comfort and closeness. She wanted to do so much more with him that simple touches and kisses. "Or have you found something difficult. You've been distracted lately."

"Mm... I'm not sure what it's been, though I do mourn it.  After all, it's created a rift between us... I can only hope that's been resolved."  He brushed his lips against her forehead, a faint smile lingering.

"As do I." she whispered honestly, closing her eyes to the touch of his lips. "I have missed the pleasant company of my . . . husband."

Allen just smiled a little, tugging her close.  His voice was a soft whisper as he spoke to her, his arms around her.  "Tonight."

Her heart sang! The tug and zing she felt constrict it made her whimper, happy and alive. Tonight, he had said. The delight and glee she felt wave through her like the sea. Celena squeezed him, tight and excited. She could hardly even find a voice to express what she felt, knowing that it would be choked and forced if she tried. She remained quiet, nothing but soft whimpers of happiness to console her.

Allen stroked her hair softly, just smiling.  "You'll be my wife.  Mine."  He pressed a kiss to her cheek softly, his own heart fluttering with anticipation.

She nodded slightly, loving the feel of his hands through her curls and his warmth. She was loathe to pull away from it, reluctant to let his hands drop from hers. But she did, mentioning that she would take a shower, to which she quickly hurried to do. The anticipation was terrible, but not completely unenjoyable - as she was thinking and looking forward to her night. Steam filled the little bathroom, which was quickly released as Celena stepped out, wearing nothing but a towel.

Allen stretched a bit, still by the window.  He was hungry, he realized.  He hadn't eaten anything all day, so engrossed in his reading he'd become.  The blonde sighed softly, running a hand through his hair.  Two things made him anxious... this night, as well as the promises of swordplay the next day.

"Allen?" she said expectantly, her voice soft and timid.

"Hm?"  Allen turned his head towards her, cocking his head to the side a little.

Celena smiled pleasantly, also letting her head dip to the side. "Are you hungry too?"

"Ah... actually, yes.  Now that I think of it, I don't think I've eaten a single thing today."

She smirked, taking the towel off and letting it drop to the floor. Of course, she didn't need to be modest. She was intimate with Allen enough already, and he was blind. She took out a skirt, long and black, bringing out a plain black t-shirt that fit tight around her bosom, and quickly dressed. She finally tugged on some boots - not the ridiculous platform kind that Nikki wore. 

 "Well, I suggest we get something to eat. How about that pizza place with the dancing?" she said, just happy to be with her brother again.

"Allen smiled softly, nodding to his sister.  "That sounds good enough for me.  "  The blonde smiled softly, nodding to his sister.

Celena returned the smile, taking his hand and putting it to her face so that he could see it. "Will you be dancing with me tonight?" She asked.

"Ah?"  Allen arched a brow slightly.  "I.... suppose."  Allen shook his head slightly, curling his fingers slightly to fit her cheek.

Happily, she leaned forward and kissed him, tugging him gently behind her so that they could be on their way. The walk wasn't very long, as everything in this city was relatively near by and within walking distance. She led Allen to a booth in the corner after ordering a medium pizza for them to share, grabbing cups for beverages. 

 "Did you want iced tea or that soda pop stuff?" she asked as he sat down.

"Ah, tea works fine enough."  Allen smiled a little, nodding slightly to her.  He tucked his hair behind an ear idly, waiting.

She came back, setting the tea in front of him and keeping the soda to herself. She really liked it, how it tickled her nose whenever she took sips from her glass. She sat down and grinned at him. "I see you're in pretty high spirits. It can't just be the reading and swordplay, can it?"

Allen shook his head a little, sighing.  "I don't know what it is, really."

"Well, as long as your happy. In the meantime, let me tell you about my day." She grinned, taking a sip of her soda, "The work they have me doing at the coffee place - ugh, it's so tiring. I don't know how many times that damnable stuff spills on me, I've stopped counting. The only thing that makes it tolerable is that it smells good."

Allen laughed a little.  "It does smell rather good, really, you're right.  And another good point--you get paid for doing it."  The blonde smiled softly, sipping at the tea quietly.

"Right, yes. Money seems awfully important to have here in this world, doesn't it?" she asked.

"It most certainly does.  Of course, money was important back home, but we never had to work for it."  Allen smiled a bit, inclining his head to her.

"Oh, right - nobility and all that." She waved it off in the air, "I keep forgetting . . . " she grew solemn for a moment, a demure frown fading into her lips as she thought of something. "Allen?" she began quietly, "Are you forgetting what home was like too?"

Allen cocked his head to the side a little at her question, a small smile on his lips.  "Not at all, no... but I suppose it might be because I had more of it to actually remember than you did."  

"I can hardly remember the manor now," she said, choking a bit as her throat tightened, "Where we used to play as children. The fields, and the beach. The ocean by our home was the deepest, purest blue and the brightest greens. I can hardly remember it now . . ."

"Don't fret over it, Celena," he murmured softly, shaking his head a bit.  "It happens with memories.  They fade as time passes.

She couldn't recall ever feeling so homesick before, her heart gripped with emotion in it. She'd had her own garden there at the manor, her mother had died there, they grew up there. So many memories and she would never see that place again, with its lush meadows full of flowers and sweet grasses, the forests, or the white sandy inlet. She sniffed quietly, wiping her nose with a napkin.

 The pizza came just in time, a server placing the large flatbread morsel in the middle of the table and setting down two plates. She blew her nose in the napkin, thankful they had them in abundance and that they were disposable. It might have been uncouth for her to do so, but she didn't care. 

"Pizza's here." she smiled weakly.

Allen smiled softly.  "As I said... don't fret over it."  He missed his home, of course--not the manor so much, no... not as much as the fort and those within it.  He had no idea what had become of Gaddes and Riden or any of the others.  It hurt to think of their possible defeat.

The blonde nodded slightly, giving a little smile.  "Yes..."  He picked up a slice as his sister set it on his plate, munching it idly.

If there was one thing that could take her mind off of troubles, it was pizza. Celena delighted in pizza, and loved to eat it, always begging to have it. It just wasn't often that they came to that particular restaurant since the point would be moot. Allen hated dancing most of the time, and she knew it. Besides, most pizza was good at just about any place they went to.

Already finishing up her second slice, she chewed and bit off the last piece of crust before sitting back in the booth contently. The look on her face was priceless, her head tilted back on the curve of the seat, eyes closed, her mouth chewing that last delicious bit of cheesy sausage and mushroom flat bread. Finally, she swallowed.

"I love pizza." She sighed.

Allen chuckled softly, shaking his head a little.  Pizza was tasty, but he wouldn't go so far as to say he loved it.  He was used to finer, more exotic foods, really.  It was good, but compared to those... well, he couldn't see any comparison. The blonde ran a hand through his hair with a soft sigh, nudging the plate aside, finishing off his tea.  It was nice to be able to go out to a restaurant like this sometimes.  

With one last sip of her soda, she leaned forward, her eyes glittering, "So, will you dance with me now?"

"Ah, I suppose.  Just whenever you're ready."  Allen nodded slightly to her, a faint smile on his lips.

"Let me set a song . . ." She ran over to the jukebox, fumbling in her pocket for a few coins to put in it as she looked over the list of songs. Finally, she selected one and came back, tugging Allen out of his seat. "Come on, you promised."

Allen went with her quietly, letting himself be tugged along.  He bit back a sigh.  It was what she wanted, after all.

She was smiling widely as she led him to the floor, coming to a stop in the middle and pulling herself close to him. One hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand. The music came up slowly - a slow dance. But the lyrics are why she chose this song, because they seemed to mean something to her, and wanted to silently tell Allen that he was special to her.

 "Look at the sky, tell me, what do you see? Just close your eyes and describe it to me . . ." Celena looked up at Allen as they moved slowly, watching his sightless gaze and asking him in her mind, Do you know what I see, Allen? I see you, just you, and that's enough for me.

Allen sighed a little, draping an arm about her waist.  At least she'd chosen something slow, that much he could do.  He'd had enough practice with that, after all.  The blonde knight, moved gently to the music, easily leading her, though letting her tell him if they were going to bump into anything, to let her steer them away from it.  A small smile lingered on his lips... not because he was dancing, but because he was with her.

They spoke little during their dance, and even less during their journey home. It wasn't until the walked through the door of their apartment did Celena finally say something. "I - I should brush my teeth." she said sheepishly, running to the bathroom.

Allen blinked slightly, turning his head towards her.  He smiled softly, shaking his head, shuffling over to the bed with a faint sigh.

Celena came out, having hastily finished freshening her breath with mint flavor. She saw Allen on the bed, still dressed, and smiled. This was supposed to be special, and it will be, she reassured herself. No games, no silliness, no dramatics. She gently lay upon the mattress, her black skirt pooling around her. She didn't want to say anything, if she did, she might ruin it. The silence between them was comfortable this time, too, she noticed.

Gently, slowly, she touched his cheek lightly, awaiting what he might do next. 

Allen sighed softly, tracing his fingers over her face, the bridge of her nose, over her lips and cheeks.  That soft smile still lingered on his full lips as he bent down, brushing his lips against hers.

When he kissed her, something deep inside her throbbed with desire. It was an odd feeling, yet it was so nice to feel. It ran down through her, into places she'd only dreamed of being touched, and between her legs - that's where the throb felt the most real. It was there that made her realize how much she wanted him, now more than ever. The blood pulsed madly within her, and she was already reaching - behind his neck to pull his kiss closer, to deepen it. The other worked on pulling his shirt from the waist of his pants.

Allen pulled back slightly, a faint smile on his lips.  "Be patient, Celena," he murmured, kissing along her neck softly, gently sliding his hands over her sides and under her shirt.  Easily, he lifted it, pushing it up under her arms and bent down to brush kisses against her abdomen.  His eyes were closed... these motions were familiar to him, but he felt them that much more keenly, now, with her.

  He tugged the shirt up and off of her, pushing it aside and out of the way and promptly set about tracing his fingers and lips over the newly revealed flesh, the cleft of her neck and shoulder, the smooth curves of her sides.

His hands, his touch - nothing could describe it to give it justice. Celena's head filled with pressure, her blood pumping through her as her heart raced madly. She lifted her head as he kissed her clavicle, her hands moving behind him to hold him loosely and she stroked his back. He was so warm, and he always felt so good. His body was lean, thin, and she traced her fingers along his spine.

 Oh, how she wanted this, her body moved in perfect rhythm, as if she knew how to move with Allen as her guide. She wanted to yell out, to scream, but the throb, continuous and seducing, made her hold back.

He moved gently, carefully, loving a bit of foreplay.  It made things so much better, really... and he was showing her that he wasn't doing it just because she wanted to.  Soon enough, he'd rid her of her clothes, tracing over her perfection gracefully.  He didn't need his eyes for this, not at all.

When he'd moved out of the reach of her hands, she had to find something for them to do. Her teeth bit into the thumb of one hand, while the other stroked her own flesh, teasing herself around her ribcage. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, feeling his hands upon her. Automatically, her legs bent at knee, pulling up, and spreading open on either side of Allen's lithe body.

  "You're teasing me," she accused softly, her voice holding nothing but the thought of pleasure.

"Foreplay, Celena... I always indulge in it.  And plus, this way... this way I can memorize your body."  Allen nuzzled her neck softly, a light sigh on his lips.

Fingers tracing along his sides as he held himself on top of her, her legs bend and spread wide with Allen in between them. His pants were still on, but the flesh of his upper body was fully exposed in the moonlight. He didn't have muscles that rippled, but they were lean and oh so smooth with her touch. One hand felt adventurous, and she had begun to feel down this abdomen to the lower, more intimate parts of his flesh.

Allen purred softly against her neck at her wandering fingers, sliding his own over her hips and waist his breath soft against her skin.  Her touch was invigorating, thrilling and he had realized that he had wanted this, especially with her.  That night, he made her his; his wife, his lover... his.  And he knew that if Chris asked her, she would refuse because it was Allen that she loved, not anyone else.  No matter how much they fought and bickered at one another, they were still closer than anyone else could get, they understood each other perfectly.  All lovers had their fights, after all.  It was only natural to have some of their own.

By the time they had finished, he'd memorized the contours of her willowy, curving frame, recognized the shudders that slipped forth from her body at her release.  He indulged in it, locking it away in his mind, seeing her with his fingertips as she did so.

He lay lightly on his side, holding her close, his heart slowly calming, flesh beginning to cool from that fire-hot burning.  

"I love you," he'd murmured a thousand times during their love making, always holding her to him.

With his seed inside her, she felt more alive than she had ever known herself to be. With his release came her own, and she could never have imagined such an electrifying experience, where everything around her just disappeared, and nothing mattered - only the sensations, the shuddering of her body as lightening ran thought it to tickle her spine.

Now in his embrace, she was awake, hardly able to fall asleep so soon after so much exertion. The quietness, his peaceful breathing, left her to muse in her own thoughts. "If love were a grain of sand," she whispered to him, turning in his hold and touching his face tenderly, "then my love for you would be a universe of beaches."

Allen let a smile linger on his lips as he listened to her speak those words.  "You say such kind things to me," he murmured, though not at all put off by what had been said.  He enjoyed hearing such things from her, enjoyed knowing how much she loved him, that she did care.  The blonde tugged her closer, resting his forehead against her own.  "I could never compare anything enough to how much I care for you, Celena.."

She smiled tiredly, rubbing his nose with her own, snoodling him. "And if a child was produced from this?" she asked fondly, musing still and not really worried. It was a dream of hers, after all, to have children. It excited her to be able to have them with her true love. 

Allen pursed his lips slightly, shaking his head.  Children he wasn't sure about.  After all, there were so few to be produced... normally by such circumstances.  But he smiled anyway, pushing his worry away.  "We wouldn't have a choice but take care of it, of course," he murmured, his eyes still softly closed.

Resting her head on the pillow his arm produced for her, she settled down, satisfied with the answer. A sigh fell from her lips, still swollen from the ravenous kisses he'd placed upon them during their play. "If we ever do have children, I would hope for him to have your eyes. You still have such beautiful eyes, Allen. And I can still see them sparkle at times." 

Allen just smiled, stroking her cheek gently with a thumb, almost thoughtfully.  If he would see this child, it would be even better.  But nae... he did not think he'd ever be able to again.  The blonde sighed softly... to have children, it would be interesting.  And what would they tell Chris and the others?  Surely the idea of incest was looked down upon here.

  'I wish I could see your own again,' he would have said, but he did not.  Now was not the time for morose musings, after all.  And instead, he said nothing.  But the smile lingered on his lips, nonetheless.

It was not lost on Celena that her ramblings have put a slight twinge in his heart. "Forgive me," she said immediately, "I have made you think of sad things. My love, I never meant to sadden you."

"No, it's alright, Celena," he murmured softly, a reassuring smile remaining.  "do not worry over it.  It was my own musings that brought me to that..."

"Then, pray let me mend your broken heart with tenderness," she said, smiling and moving her head so that she could kiss his neck, tracing her lips across his lean chest. Her lips found his erect nipple, and she suckled it, her tongue teasing it.

Allen tensed slightly, breathing a soft sigh and letting his fingers grace through her hair.  A small smirk tugged gently at his lips, his eyes closed.  ",... I've gotten you worse about it, I see," he teased softly.

"Oh, is that a complaint then?" she asked, grinning as she brought her face up to look at him, "Then perhaps I should torture you . . ." And as she spoke, she was already reaching down below his abdomen, to the pulsing softness of his manhood.

Allen purred softly, gliding her hand away, nuzzling her neck softly.  "Sleep, Celena," he murmured, putting his arms around her again, tugging her close to him.  Idly, he stroked his fingers through her hair, the movements lazy.

With small laugh against his skin, scarred from battles yet still so smooth, she settled against him again. She was always fascinated by his scars, how the milky white veins stood out so vividly upon his flesh. She traced her fingers along the scar at his shoulder, having healed a while ago now. How much pain he went through to protect the people he loved. How much more would he go through to protect her now.

 But the thoughts of battle and warfare were far behind her soon enough, and sleep overwhelmed her.

His sleep was easy that night, with worries eased away and her warm flesh pulled so close.  Comfortable, right.  He dreamt pleasant things he wouldn't remember in the morning and didn't care to because he would still have her there in his arms.

 When the sunlight flickered through the window, he did not stir.  The sunlight never woke him, for he couldn't see it.  He rested on his side, Celena drawn to him with an arm about her.  Protecting, like always.


	25. Chances

Author's Note: Okay, the events in this chapter are unlikely. My defense? It's just fanfiction, so who cares about absolute accuracy as long as the story's fun?

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Chances**

It was already mid-morning by the time Celena finally did wake. She stirred only slightly, feeling Allen's hold on her and smiling sleepily as she snuggled into it a bit. With a kiss on his cheek, she reluctantly pulled away from his embrace to get to the kitchen and find some cold pizza to nibble.

Allen curled up where she had been for a little longer, then begrudgingly got up and shuffled to the shower.  He washed last night from his flesh, taking his time.  He felt better, he felt whole and right, now.  With a soft sigh, he slipped from the water, wrapping a towel about his waist as he dried his hair a bit, enough to where it wouldn't drip everywhere, and slipped back into the other room.  There, he rifled through the dresser, tugging out some clothes and tossing them to the side as he set about drying the rest of himself.

"Hmm, this is a sight I love to see," Celena purred, her tone playful and lilting as she grinned and approached him from behind.

He straightened a little, a soft chuckle on his lips as he began to tug on jeans.  "I've made you rabid..."

A slight gasp emitted from her, and she brought her hand to her mouth in mock disbelief, "Rabid? I dare say, sir, that you have not made me rabid without just cause. It should be you who is blamed for it, being so beautiful of  a man that this woman couldn't bear to tear her eyes away from such a soft, smooth, and," another court lady sigh, "muscled body."

Allen arched a brow, inclining his head.  "Indeed?  My sincerest apologies then, madam.  I'll be sure to rid the world of such a temptation.  It will bring no happiness to anyone."  Allen grinned wolfishly, grasping at the t-shirt and tugging it on over his head.

Playfully, and grinning wickedly, she pinched the soft flesh of his rear. "That's what you get for being cheeky." she finished triumphantly.

"Mm, do you work today?"  Allen chuckled a little, smoothing his hands through his hair.  He'd brushed it earlier, and now drew it back into a loose ponytail.

"Sadly," she admitted, reaching for the dresser for her own clothing. She, too, threw it on the bed to be sorted through, quickly finding something that matched before throwing it on. "Sometimes I hate being so busy."

The blonde smiled softly, nodding.  "Well, Chris and I are going to start practicing today, which was why I was wondering."

Celena sort of groaned, leaning her head on the mattress that she'd resigned to falling onto. "I wanted to be there." she complained quietly, "Work sucks."

Allen smiled softly.  "It can't be so bad.  And we won't be going over anything horribly exciting anyhow."

"Oh, I just wanted to see the look on his face when he finds out you're really not a defenseless blind man." She perked up and grinned.

Allen laughed softly.  "I wonder if he truly does believe that."  Allen just grinned a little, inclining his head.

"Well, no one here would think the wiser of you, walking around like you do, you know. Sure, you're by yourself. But most people don't even carry weapons, and most _blind_ people here look extremely careful with where they go and how they get there." She shrugged, "I'm just observant that way."

Allen smiled a little, nodding slightly.  "I suppose it's also one of my faults.  My pride doesn't allow me to show my weakness that way, I suppose.  Though you have to admit that I'm more careful than I was before."

"Well, yeah. You don't want to get run over by a car - or ten cars." She grinned, standing and looking at the clock next to the bed. "Ugh, a half hour before work."

Allen smiled softly, stretching a little.  He couldn't wait.  After all... he'd be once more starting up his swordplay.  It was a passion of his, and to just up and stop it, well... that would be an insult to the fallen Balgus.

~

Chris had awaited Allen's arrival the next day with some trepidation. He had only seen the man's sword at his side, his comfort in carrying a blade - he had never seen him actually fight with it. He loved movies like Zatoichi, but knew the realities of sword fighting were heavily based on vision. Allen didn't have that. So naturally, the boy was a little nervous about how this was going to play out. Not necessarily because Allen can't see and might chop of Chris' arm - but because his friend might be heart broken to find out he cannot be what he once was before his lost of sight.

Again, all this was going through the mind of a young man who had never known Allen as a sword fighter. 

Allen made his way quietly to the other's lodging, the sheathed rapier safely tucked away to keep out of sight.  The blonde was excited at the prospect of being able to practice again, as well as taking on a pupil of sorts.  He rapped softly on the door when he reached it, smiling a bit as a yawning Ethan drug open the door.

"Oh, Chris?  He's... in the living room, I think.  He won't shut up about you teaching him."  The near-redhead grinned, leading Allen inside.

"Oh, don't come in. We'll just go right back out again," said Chris, immediately standing from the couch with his rapier in hand. He quickly led Allen back outside and down the steps. "Come on, we'll go this way."

Allen smiled softly, nodding to him.  The blonde tugged off his coat, draping it aside, the swordbelt worn familiarly at his hip.  "I suppose one of the first things to touch on is how to hold it."  The blonde made sure to recall the beginnings of his training in swordplay, sighing softly.  It seemed so long ago.  

Chris was more than willing to do whatever Allen suggested, whatever he might have said. He only felt slightly embarrassed at times when he had to accommodate for Allen's vision impairment, having to stop and hold his stand so that Allen could physically go over him and check it. He still felt odd, being taught by a blind man, but he made no mention of his apprehension.

They covered basic things in the green belt behind the townhouses, no one around to stare at them - thank goodness, thought Chris. For the moment, the young brunette stood there with his sword poised as Allen went over blocking.

"I showed you a few basic strikes already.  Alright, so use those and I'll demonstrate a few different basic variations of parrying."  Allen straightened, sword point tipped down, his head slightly tipped to the side.  He had to listen harder because of the noise pollution within the city, but it didn't bother him too much, thankfully.  "Come on."  Allen motioned to him, hoping Chris remembered his urgings earlier to not hold back just because he was blind.

"O-Okay, Allen. . ." he said timidly. The boy made a magnificent strike from the side, almost gracefully stepping foreword as he made the blow.

Allen smiled softly, bringing the rapier up quickly and with ease at the singing of the blade through the air, pushing faintly back against the blow to bat it to the side.  "Good... you're getting more comfortable with those, you know.  You learn it quickly." 

Chris smiled proudly at Allen's praise. Sword tip down, the way Allen had shown him as a signal of peace to his opponent, he stood where he was and beamed. "So what's next?" he asked eagerly.

Allen smiled softly.  "Not tired yet?"  The blonde ran a hand through his hair--he'd salvaged his gloves and wore them now... to keep from callusing his fingers more than they were.  "Good."

Chris grinned, "Do I get to learn any of those cool samurai moves?" He demonstrated some flimsy strikes of his sword the way he'd seen it done in so many Kurosawa films.

"Ah?  Those are more suited for a different weapon.  Rapiers are more... flamboyant, really."  Allen grinned sheepishly.  "Though I have used such weapons before.  "Fanelia was known for their samurai, instead of Asturia, but I'm sure I could manage some."

"Fanelia?" Chris said, the word feeling strange falling from his tongue, "They had samurai?" He sat down, suddenly engrossed in thought. His hand brought up to his chin, rapier careless cast aside. It was as if he was thinking deep thoughts about the universe with how quiet he'd gotten.

Allen cocked his head to the side a little.  "Mm?  Yes, they did... Balgus, my mentor and one of the best swordsmen I have ever met, resided in Fanelia."

Chris grinned, looking up at his sword master and letting the foreign words he learned in high school force themselves from his throat. "Potete capirli?" he asked.

The blonde quirked a brow slightly, sheathing the sword carefully, taking a seat where he was.  "Hm?"  Allen pursed his lips thoughtfully, pondering over the words.

Chris hummed as he thought again, his test floundering miserably but he was a stubborn scientist. He tried again, "Parlate italiano? Parlate questa lingua?"

Allen cocked his head to the side a little, turning his head towards the other man, staying silent.  He didn't really get what he was doing... or saying.  So he decided to wait it out.

Chris laughed, mostly out of embarrassment. "I guess you don't speak Italian."

"Ah?  No..."  Allen smiled a little, shaking his head.  He chuckled softly, almost sheepishly.  "What brought that on?"

"Well, I was thinking about your world the other day," he began, bringing his knees up to this chest. He let out a sigh, sort of a conclusion to his failed experiment. "Your sister had mentioned that pasta was popular in your world. I even heard her use the word *vino* for your wine, and she said it tasted sweet which says to me that it's like some stuff called Sangria. *Then* you mention samurai's from this other country, and I was wondering if maybe they speak Japanese, meanwhile your country seems a lot like Earth's Italy or other latin countries."

"Mm... so there are similarities between them?"  Allen leaned forward slightly, an excited grin on his lips.  "Interesting... Chris, do you know much about your world?  History-wise and culture related and such things?"

"History's sort of required general subject among the entire populace here." stated the young man matter-of-factly.

Allen smiled.  "Then... for me teaching you swordplay, could you tell me about the history and such here?  I would dearly like to know it."

"Sure thing." he said automatically, standing with a smile. "Actually - I have a question too." And he blushed horribly.

Allen smiled to him, nodding slightly.  "Yes?  What is it...?"

Chris ran a hand through his long brown waves, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, it's about your sister . . . Do you know if she's doing anything on Friday? I want to surprise her . . ."

"mm... I don't think she's working then, no, and that's about all she does right now."  Allen smiled softly, inclining her head a little to the older man.

"Um - do you. . . ?" he took another breath, feeling extremely embarrassed, "Do you know if - if she might . . . like me?"

Allen wasn't sure how to answer, really.  To answer truthfully would be to tell him of the affections between he and his sister... and Allen had no idea how the other would react to that.  But to lie to him about it... he'd feel guilty.  And thus, he opted to squeeze down the middle of those two options.  "To be honest?  I wouldn't know.  As embarrassing as it might be, I would say to ask her directly."  Allen smiled reassuringly to the other, nodding to him.

Ethan had been about to ask them if they'd wanted something to eat.  He was planning on heading out to order something... but he let the door flutter closed when he caught wind of the conversation.  And just what Chris was asking.

The youngest sibling cringed a bit, turning and walking stiffly to his room, slumping onto the bed.

What was he thinking anyway?  He shouldn't have even bothered to try and hope for a sign of it.  He was his brother... and his brother was interested in girls nonetheless.  

"Gah... I'm an idiot," he mumbled softly, rolling onto his back and curling up on his side.  It was just wrong, all of it.  He was supposed to find a girl--or boy--not related to him to fall utterly and completely in love with... but Ethan had been gifted with falling for his brother.

His brother.  Argh.

~

As per his impulse to act in the ways of all the books he'd been so fond of, he automatically gave Allen a courteous little bow. "Thank you, Sir Allen. I appreciate your discretion." He straightened, smiling - then he clasped the man in a tight embrace. "Thank you so much for everything."

Allen chuckled softly, returning the embrace in kind.  "You have done so much for us, Chris, that we are the ones to thank.  It is the least I can do after all that you've done for Celena and myself."

"You guys are dreams," he said honestly, pulling away slightly and giving the man a fond squeeze on his shoulder, "You came out of a fantasy world that no one would have ever imagine in a million years, and we had the good fortune to take you in and be your friends. I will always be glad to have known you, my good friend."

"And I'll always be honored to have known you, and have been under your care.  I appreciate it immensely."  Allen smiled gently, nodding slightly.  "We had Hitomi... and now we're here, as she had been among us."

Chris nodded again, looking down for a second before gathering his sword and taking Allen's arm. "Should I escort you back to the front? I know you haven't been around here before . . ."

"Ah?  It would be appreciated..."  The blonde nodded a little, grabbing up his coat after recalling where he'd thrown it and fumbling around for it.  He tugged it on, the sword once more mostly hidden beneath its folds.

The practice sessions had gone on for a week, nearly every day, excluding those times when Chris actually had to find some sort of work or to send out resumes. Psych degrees don't go very far when you're young, he supposed. But he always had sword practice to look forward to, and that cheered both him and Allen up immensely. 

~

 After two weeks, Allen seemed just as skilled as any trained actor from those swashbuckling movies Terrans loved to watch so much, and Celena was looking forward to him applying for the teaching position in the Fencing Academy. She woke up early that morning, having a sudden urge to wretch and scurried from Allen's hold to get to the bathroom in time.

Allen curled up a bit where she had been a little before, soaking up her warmth.  He sighed softly, resting there for a little longer before he roused himself.  Celena wasn't there.  She hardly ever got up without waking him.  The blonde yawned, stretching and sitting up, stepping out of bed quietly.  "Celena?" he murmured softly, a frown at the light of the bathroom on...

And the sounds within.

His steps were quick towards it, hurried, pushing the door open.

The sounds were not pretty, but luckily they were quick as her stomach forced out what little there was in it into the toilet. She coughed a bit, rinsing out her mouth and flushing the toilet. Taking deep, shuddering breaths and shaking from just being sick, she stood in the doorframe.

Allen looked worried.  He fumbled, resting his hands on her shoulders heavily.  "Celena!?  What's wrong...?"

She just shook her head, falling onto him tiredly and loosely wrapping her arms around him. She couldn't say it. But she knew it was true, and now that it was, her heart's desire fulfilled - she had no idea what to tell him or what to do.

Allen blinked, slinking his arms about her waist, frowning slightly.  He sighed softly... he was still young, he didn't know all the little signs of pregnancy... though he did actually have a son.  

Celena leaned into her brother, almost falling to her knees as they began to buckle. She caught herself around him, however, barely able to choke out, "I don't think I'll be going to work today."

"Of course you're not," he admonished quietly, picking her up and carrying her over to the bed, tucking her in.  "You're going to rest..."

"You know what's wrong, don't you?" she asked softly, gladly settling into the covers again. She took his hand, not wanting to let go of him - not when something so important needed to be said.

"Should I?  You're... ill."  Allen started a little, curling his fingers around Celena's worriedly.  A weight settled on him, it wasn't just illness.

She choked out a small sob, a little hurt that he didn't know. She put her arms around his neck to draw him close to her, to rub her cheek against his affectionately - and so that she could whisper into his ear, "I'm pregnant."

Allen tensed a little, his unseeing eyes widening.  Gods.  Again.  He curled his arms around her in a hug, pulling her close.  How... were they going to explain that?  It would be more than obvious their relationship... more than obvious...

Celena seemed to voice the very questions that plagued Allen's mind, her worried voice shaking and frantic. "Allen, how are we going to explain this . . . how could we . . ." She stopped, letting out a breath, "No one that I work with knows you're my brother. I never mentioned it. We could fake it. We could - we could say we're married. Nikki and the others would understand . . . I know they will. They couldn't possibly . . . hold this love against us, could they?"

"I don't know..."  Allen sighed softly, hugging her tighter.  "I don't know at all... I... well, I certainly hope not."  He was frightened of what would happen if they did.  Would they just suddenly cut off communications with them?

She swallowed slightly, trying to keep her emotions in check - and that was really hard to do for some reason that she couldn't explain. "Allen," she managed evenly, "We'll figure something out, okay? For now, you need to go with Chris and apply for the fencing academy. If this baby is going to come in nine months, I can't be the only one supporting us."

"Ah... i-if you're alright."  Allen pulled back slightly, though his arms were still around here.  "If you're alright, I'll go..."

"I'll be here. I'll sleep, I promise." She pulled back and kissed him deeply, as if she were afraid that he would leave her forever. But she knew that would never happen, knowing that he loved her and wouldn't abandon her with her new burden.

Allen returned the kiss in kind, then begrudgingly drew away.  He kissed her cheek softly, sighing, dressing.  A pair of slightly looser slacks, a button down... he had to look professional, after all.  His rapier was lain aside, they were to use the ones in the academy.  After fretting over her for a little longer, he turned, walking out... heading cautiously, like always, to Chris'.

~

Chris had helped Allen into his car, driving the fifteen miles to the academy. They were on the freeway, and Allen was looking - distracted. He gripped his cane in front of him, and his brow was furrowed. Naturally, Chris was worried. "Allen?" he said, looking over to his blond friend, "Are you okay?"

Allen was pretty much silent the entire way, until Chris spoke up.  The blonde lifted his head a bit, arching a brow.  "Hm?  Ah, yes... just a bit of nervousness."  No lie in that.  "I'm fine besides that..."

"Alright," Chris nodded, still worried for his friend and wishing their was a way to reassure him. He smiled over at him, pulling off the freeway and turning right onto the main highway. "You'll do fine. Don't you worry. You're fucking brilliant and you know it!"

Allen chuckled softly, shaking his head a little.  "I'm hardly that.  I just hope I'm good enough for them to hire."  He was nervous about that, but moreso he was nervous about hsi sister.  Two children, now.  Two of them.

"They'd be stupid not to hire you," he said. The academy wasn't far off the highway, the building being a public gymnasium used for the Fencing Academy and wrestling as well as other community activities. Parking the car, Chris led Allen toward the metal doors of the gym, already hearing the shouts and clanking of metal foils fencing - the auditions already taking place.

He had to admit, it *did* look odd to see Allen being led by him, using his cane to help guide him into the fencing gymnasium to apply for teaching. "Okay, we're almost there," he said.

"Mm..."  Allen had already voiced his concerns on that matter.  He wasn't sure how he'd do... he just hoped they'd give him a chance.  He walked with Chris, guided by his hand, as well as by his warnings.  He would likely be younger than most of the other instructors--but he'd dealt with that before...

When they entered, the fencers on the mat continued fencing, but the bickering judges immediately turned their attention to the heavy door that opened and added to the echoes of foils clashing. They weren't really sure what to make of the pair, yet. One was obviously blind, as he was led by a cane and his companion - so they automatically assumed it was Chris that was there to apply.

Allen was silent, brow slightly furrowed.  He was here.  Now he'd have to push away the worry he'd gotten from his sister that morning and focus on the task at hand.  Of course, he couldn't completely ignore it, but even still.  He had to focus.  She was right, they couldn't support three mouths just on her pay alone.

The Judges immediately shuffled papers around when Chris brought Allen up to their tables. There were four of them, three men and a woman - all of them nearing middle age. They looked to Chris, and the first one at the end spoke up.

"Here to apply for the tutor openings?" said the older man, indicating that there was more than one person to be hired as instructors for fencing.

"Ah, no, sir." said Chris immediately, pointing to Allen, "He is." 

All four board members laughed at his joke, and he felt a cold fear in his stomach.

Allen inclined his head, arching a brow slightly.  It hit him hard... again.  Because he was blind, all because of that.  "I wouldn't discount your applicants so quickly, good sirs," he murmured softly, kindly.  Though he was a little irritated... and a lingering bit of fear, especially at the memories of what had happened last time.

Behind them, the last shouts of the latest applicant had ceased, their match coming to a close. The two fencers bowed and left the mats, one of them coming next to the judges to take off his face mask. Apparently, this man was testing the applicants, thought Chris. While the Judges all looked at each other in confusion, this man took a long swig of water.

Finally, the same one who had spoken before, leaned forward and said with some discretion from his fellows, "Sir, I'm sorry - but - aren't you . . . blind?"

Allen nodded faintly.  "I am.  But I ask that you do not discredit me so, simply for that.  Or my youth."  Allen felt dread begin to wind itself in his stomach.  His hair was drawn back loosely to keep out of his face.  While he had changed over the time they were on Earth, he still carried himself as he had before... proud.

Finally, after all the judges were mulling about this situation, another spoke up with a frank tone. "As much as we would hate to turn away applicants as - ambitious as yourself, I'm afraid we just cannot accommodate disabled instructors. We need fencers who are sighted and able to care for the safety of their students. You understand, I'm sure."

"Please."  Allen rested a gloved hand on the table before him... determined.  He wouldn't give in easily.  Damn it, sword fighting was his life.  "I have trained Chris here himself before this and I have one that fine enough.  You would turn me away without any consideration?"

The woman spoke up this time, her voice sincere and sorrowful. She stood and said, "I'm sorry, sir. But I'm afraid they're right. As much as it - hurts to do it, sir, I cannot apologize enough but . . . we must look out for the safety of the students."

He should have known.  He should have had less hope and more logic.  He shouldn't have lied to himself to convince him that he had a chance.  Allen was silent for a long moment before he turned sharply, snatching up Chris' hand, tugging at him.  "Let's go," he murmured far calmer than he felt.  He wanted to cry.  He wanted to yell and get angry and just cry but he couldn't.  His swordplay was his life, had been since he was younger.  And now...

"Wait! Hold up - Jesus, you guys are stiffs." Said the man who had been chugging on the water bottle, watching the scene with fascination. He now stood and made a quick jog towards Allen before he left the building. "Hey, my name's Mike. I'll challenge you right now if you're that determined to prove these morons wrong." His voice was low so that the other judges wouldn't hear his venomous words. If he was willing to go against their word - it must mean he was on the board with them. Chris couldn't have been more thankful for his intervention.

Allen paused, turning his head towards him.  It might be his chance.  Taking a moment to push aside the roiling emotions within him, the blonde sighed, giving a nod.  "I appreciate it immensely."  And he wouldn't make the decision to give him a chance wrong.  Again, calmer than he felt, his voice level, though still gracious.

"Mike, what the hell are you doing? The man's blind!" Said the first judge, a tall man with a sharp face. He stood up as if to make his point valid, watching as Mike led Allen to the mat and grabbing some extra gear, a chest pad and a mask.

"With all due respect, John," Mike said without so much looking at the man and helping Allen into the padding, "Shove it up your ass for now, okay?" He handed Allen a thin foil, adjusting the mask over his own face and taking his position.

The blonde man took a moment to get used to the padding and such.  Fencing... more flamboyant than his usual style, but he knew it nonetheless.  Allen sighed, calming himself, then tucked his left arm behind his back, his feet set square apart, light on the balls of his feet.  It was easier here, where the noises of the outside were muffled.  He didn't need his eyes open, closing them out of reflex.

Just another duel, he reminded himself, calming his racing, excited heart.

Mike readied himself, taking position with his foil - he was curious, after all. If this man was so determined, so ambitious that he would let nothing, not even blindness stop him . . . well, he had to see for himself how good this new comer might claim to be. He attacked with a powerful thrust.

Thrusting and parrying, the footwork light.  Swordplay was easy, natural and graceful for him.  It was interesting, especially to Chris who saw him working just through basics, teaching.  It was a dance for him.  He'd done this since he was still so young.  His blade was his life, his honor, his pride.  He wasn't perfect, no, but for being blind...

Allen hadn't grown up in this modern society.  He'd worn a sword at his side since he was young, he'd fought against and easily defeated men who challenged him, he'd accomplished so much though a combination of his wit and charm... and his sword.

It ended with Allen's foil pressed against Mike's chest pad, everything had been such a blur that the sword master hardly saw this man's moves coming. And his opponent couldn't *see* . . . His hands down, foil point toward the floor - defeated. They turned to the board table and Mike had to smirk. He loved it when his intuition paid off . . . 

No one spoke, hardly anyone moved save for the occasional jaw dropping. Chris, too, was in complete awe of the Allen's skill - there was surely no man on the entire Earth who was as skilled as this man, and he's blind for christ's sake! 

Mike grinned, turning his head to Allen a bit, and whispering, "You would probably love the looks on their faces right now."

"I wouldn't like to boast, of course," Allen murmured softly, tugging off the mask with a gloved hand.  He was pleased with himself.  He'd had this dread that he'd just utterly mess it up, but once he'd begun the actual duel, the worry had faded away and Allen had nearly forgotten what he was here for.  All that had mattered was the duel.  A faint smile lingered on the blonde's lips as he reached up to brush a long lock of gold that had slipped forward behind an ear.  well, then.  It was time to wait for their verdict.

"Um - uh . . . " stuttered the one named Paul, shakily shuffling through papers and gathering one in particular. "We'll just - need you to fill out . . . Um, how should we do this?"

Chris, having stood right next to the judge's table, snatched up the paper and pen. "I'll fill it out. Come on, Allen."

Allen inclined his head slightly, walking over towards Chris' voice.  It felt good to prove them wrong.  It felt damn good.  Strides towards the older man were calm, proud and he indulged in a small, victorious smile that he directed Chris' way.

"Uh, sir . . . . Allen, uh . . .?" said Paul, catching Allen by the shoulder before he went passed them.

Allen paused, turning his head towards him.  "Hmm?  Yes?  What is it?" he murmured, arching a brow a little.

"Your last name, sir?" he asked.

Schezar.  He had to.  What else could he say?  "Schezar."  He could only hope he wouldn't ask his nationality.  He wouldn't have any idea.

"Allen Schezar," spoke Paul, suddenly filled with honor at being able to touch this brave, brilliant young man. "May I shake your hand, sir? To congratulate you aboard the Fencing Academy."

Allen started slightly at the... sudden humbleness of the man.  He held out his hand to the other man, offering a kind smile.  It was almost like in Asturia, when he'd first gotten to be a part of the knighthood.  "Of course.  I would be honored."

Paul nodded, forgetting that the man cannot see, shaking Allen's hand vigorously. The other three stood, almost in unison, the next one beside Paul touched Allen's hand so that he too may clasp it in friendship. The others did it in succession. . . before Allen was finally able to be pulled away to have Chris fill out the necessary information.

A week after that, Allen had begun his career in teaching the art of fencing.


	26. The New Arrival

Author's Note: What was that about things being convoluted again? *sigh* Well, enjoy the story for what it's worth.

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**The New Arrival**

Allen was thrilled.  He could once more take up his swordplay as his career.  Invigorated, he worked more and more with Chris to flesh out his easiness with instructing and when that week came when he'd begin, he could hardly sleep the night before.  He paced, sat at the window, ran his fingers over the bumps of Braille in the book he was reading.  That time when he'd met with Sarah that week, he was all too eager, too excited and he'd ended up spilling it to her.  Ah, yes, his swordplay.  He could go on for hours about it if someone wanted to listen.  His spirits brightened immensely and when Celena would get worried about the child or such things, he'd laugh it off and tell her not to worry.

He was a good teacher. His students had been apprehensive at first, having a blind teacher training them for the tournaments for winter time. The first thing he told them was that he knew it put them off a bit, and he had forced them to focus and worry about their own selves if they were going to compete and win in the tournament. And even if they didn't win, what mattered is what they learned. 

Meanwhile, Celena's stomach grew, and she couldn't help but feel oddly full or bloated at times with a severe pouch of human growing on her abdomen. It got to the point where she could no longer hide it, and beyond - she had to stop wearing her pants and skirts and buy . . . maternity clothing. Black, still - she insisted on black. Nikki had said nothing about her pregnancy, only insisting that she should be careful and go to a doctor - which she hadn't yet. Celena never said anything about the father - but it seemed pretty clear that Nikki . . . and the others, figured it out. 

What relieved her the most, was that they did not turn away from them. If anything, they felt strange, but still obligated to take care of the other worldly friends.

Allen had gotten over his worry and had finally come out and explained his apprehension to his sister.  He had a son... only he wasn't his own.  The blonde was more than relieved at their friends' reactions towards them and, he noticed, that Ethan seemed to need to speak to him a little less.  It made him happy for the other.  Happy that he didn't have so many troubles, happy that Ethan could relax.

He continued his work at the academy, assuring and reassuring his students that they were safe so long as they didn't make any stupid mistakes around one another.  He readied them carefully and proudly, pleased to be able to send them off to the tournament when that time would come.

It was funny how quickly things went. Allen was able to make enough money just at teaching to support both him and his pregnant sister, the rent, other expenses, and eventually a cell phone package for both his sister and himself incase the other ever needed anything - but it was mostly in case Celena needed to reach him quickly. Most of Celena's days were spent at home, or taking short walks before she got too tired and went home to sleep.

Finally, Celena was nagged enough to go to the doctor. She had to use her fake documents and go to a free medical clinic for prenatal care, but they did something called an Ultra Sound on her bulging belly. She was thrilled that it revealed not only a growing babe, but a healthy girl. Nikki had taken her there - there explanation was that Allen was her husband, making no mention of their sibling ties.

She did not want to tell Allen the secret of the baby's gender, and so she kept it to herself until that day finally came. With the tournaments passed them, and Allen's new wave a students, things were already stressed enough. Only to be woken up in the middle of the night by Celena, who was clutching her belly and panting the way they had taught her to do at the clinic.

"Um . . . Allen," she panted, in and out in sequence, ". . . Allen!"

The blonde jerked awake, sitting up and turning his head towards her, brow furrowed in worry.  "Celena!?  What's wrong?"  Panic flared, a hand resting on her shoulder.  Panting.  Labor.  Oh gods, he couldn't drive, they couldn't get her to the hospital in time.  He couldn't do it alone, no...

Fumbling for the phone, holding down the first number as he'd been shown to get Nikki's phone.  Nikki.  She'd know what to do.  He frantically waited for the phone to pick up, hoping she was a light enough sleeper.

"Lab!" came the yell on the other end, sardonic as always.

"Nikki, I-I think she's going into labor."  Allen kept a hand on her shoulder, if only to remind her that he was there.

"Holy shit!" She fairly yelled into the phone, "I'm on my way right now!" And she hung up. 

The pain she was feeling was dull, but potent. She'd already begun to sweat. Already she was trying to stand to get to the ready packed bag in time - prenatal care took care of thankfully a lot. . . Allen being insured through the academy now - although, she herself still had trouble figuring out how insurance worked, as it was never needed on Gaea.

Allen didn't bother with a shirt.  He didn't spare it a single thought.  He pulled himself from the bed, padding over to her side and bracing her weight with his own, helping her stand.  "Are you sure you're okay to walk?"

"I need to be . . . ready," she panted, groaning again and leaning on Allen as another wave of pain came. 

Luckily, Nikki and her brothers lived nearby, and the moment the Schezars were ushers into the care, she took off at record speed. Celena's head was in Allen's lap, with Chris looking from around the passenger seat to make sure they were alright. Such a rush, everything moved in a blur - and before anyone knew it, Celena was already at the hospital, in the delivery room, being given epidurals and told to push.

"I don't know what you mean by pushing! It seems to be doing fine on its own!" She practically screamed.

Allen had been pushed outside of the room to wait anxiously, his heart racing.  He'd be worthless at work tomorrow, but damn it... this was more important, they'd understand.  Ethan every once in awhile would start to drift off to sleep, only to jerk awake at another yell from the room.  Thankfully he didn't have anything to do tomorrow.

Nikki and Chris were pretty much falling asleep on each other as they sat in awkward positions on adjoined chairs. Celena's labor seemed shorter than most, however. Not even an hour went by until the doctor, a short female woman with lots of laugh wrinkles around her eyes, came out to address the husband.

"So, which one of you is the culprit?" she asked.

Allen tensed, turning towards her.  "Ah....?  Me, ma'am."  A warrior, of course, finely honed muscles tensing.  Ethan had grabbed a shirt for him, which was nice enough.  At least he wasn't half-naked.  

The doctor smiled, acutely aware of Allen's empty gaze, and gently took his arm to lead him into the delivery room. "Well, sir, I congratulate you. You have a healthy girl. Ten fingers, ten toes."

"W-wel, I'd certainly hope she had ten of each..."  Allen blinked sightlessly, getting led inside.  His heart fluttered.  A girl.  He had a daughter... and he'd raise her to be a lady and make sure she got all the best treatment and, oh... oh, it would be SO much fun... so very much fun.  And he could be her knight, too, and she'd be his little princess.  Allen beamed, his thoughts trailing on and on with silly, giddy fatherly nonsense.

Celena was barely awake, though she still held her newborn, clean of placenta and now with a healthy pink tint to her skin. The babe's eyes were closed, so they wouldn't know exactly what color they were until later. She was barely aware of Allen sidling up next to her to take a seat. She swallowed dryly.

"Aren't you glad . . . that she's healthy?" she asked sleepily, "She's healthy, Allen. We have a daughter together, and there's nothing wrong with her."

Allen couldn't help but grin, grasping her arm gently, carefully.  "I bet she's just as beautiful as you are, oh Celena.  A girl..."  He laughed softly, unable and unwanting to beat back his utter joy.  

"A name, Allen . . ." she whispered, "What should we name her?"

"Ah..."  he paused a bit, blinking, shaking his head.  "I don't know.  Something strong..."

Celena thought for a moment, smiling despite her fatigue. "Why don't you hold her and decided on one?"

Allen smiled softly, holding out his arms.  "Ah... maybe it would be best for me to be shown.  I've got no idea how..."

She laughed softly, supporting the newborn's head and telling Allen to do the same. Carefully, she handed the little girl to his outstretched arms, the little bundle barely bigger than a loaf of bread. The babe cooed slightly at the rustling about, her little lips suckling. "Gently . . ." she said.

Allen did as he was bidden, holding her carefully, wary of holding her too tightly.  She was like porcelain in his arms, light, fragile.  He held her close as he had never been able to do with his son, his eyes closed.   That smile lingered, his body thrumming with his joy.  

"What about Angelina?" Celena asked, thinking of the first name that came to her head.

Allen was silent a moment, then nodded slightly.  "Angelina it is..."

~

And she continued to be healthy, every time the pediatrician checked up on the infant. Celena, though she was sore and tired and just starting to go back to being her thin self again, tried to take care of the babe as best she could. They had been warned about waking up in the middle of the night for a feeding. . . and the young girl was certainly not used to the baby suckling at her breast. But she'd done it as she had been instructed to anyway.

They were used to life there by now, thoughts of Gaea seemingly far behind them. So many things were different, the jobs, the government, and especially medicine. It was almost crazy how often the doctors insisted Angelina be checked up on. But Celena would not take any chances, knowing the baby was born out of incest. She felt in her heart of hearts that nothing could be perfect, no matter how much she'd hoped.

So she was proven right, three months after Angelina's birth. The short lady who had delivered the baby being quite frank and serious when Celena entered with Allen on her arm, and the baby's carrier in the other hand.

"We've been doing tests on your daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Schezar. Since about a month ago. And there are some results that we think you should know about." began the woman.

Allen tensed at those words beside his sister... nae, his wife, his grip on her arm tightening just slightly.  Gods... it could only be too true, her perfection.  Nothing could go perfectly right, could it?  Allen steadied his voice, arching a brow.  "What is it...?"  

The woman, Dr. Lee, could be sympathetic the only way that she knew how. By not beating around the bush. So she bid them both to sit down and went on with her discoveries, taking  a deep breath. "We do exams regularly on all of our patients, all the infants who are born, and we examine every one of their senses critically. Angelina has severe hypoplasia in her optic nerves, meaning that . . . they're underdeveloped. It's a congenial defect, and we can't be certain how it happens. But, from what we could determine . . ." Dr. Lee felt horrible to be giving this news to the young couple. Already, Celena had been blank faced, though her eyes had betrayed her and began to well with tears. It seemed clear what the prognosis was for the infant Schezar child, and it was a matter of sensitivity since her father was already blind.

Celena couldn't think, her head swelled with frustration, anger, and confusion. Her tears spilled, but no sound came from her lips. She only gripped her husband's arm before reaching down into the carrier to bring out her daughter, her Angel. She held the babe, and she did not stir nor open her eyes. Celena only wanted to hold her, and hold her close.

Allen clenched his jaw tightly... it would be too easy for her to have been fine, wouldn't it?    But he said nothing, waiting for the doctor to leave.  He slipped an arm about Celena's waist, holding her close to him.  Optic nerves... those dealt with the eyes.

Dread descended upon him as it clicked just what was wrong with the child.  And for a long chunk of moments, he wondered if he'd passed that down to her somehow.  Bitterness began to knot itself in his chest at that thought.  What if he'd caused it in his own daughter.  Was she blind because of him?  Allen bowed his head slightly, defeated.

Dr. Lee seemed to be able to tell where Allen's thoughts might have been drifting, from the way his head bowed. "Mr. Schezar . . . it's congenial, but it's not you. Your vision loss was caused by physical harm, if I recall you telling me once correctly. So not your fault. Neither of you are to blame for this." But there was probably nothing more she could say that would console them.

"Please," said Celena, "Isn't there anything . . . ?"

Dr. Lee shook her head slowly, sadly. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"And this is utterly permanent, I assume?  There's no way to fix this?"  Allen had to pause to steady his voice, the heavy weight of his upset still lingering.  Their daughter.  Blind.  How fitting.  He'd do what he could if there was a way, but he had the distinct feeling that there wasn't anything they could do.  Of course, he didn't have any idea that you could fix blindness to a degree anyhow.

"The optic nerves send visual signals to the brain," she began, "But Angelina's are so underdeveloped that - they're hardly even there. Some cases can be fixed through surgery, but we don't have the technology to completely rebuilt the nerve in the eye."

Allen cocked his head to the side a little.  Right now he couldn't ask, he couldn't bring himself to even dare to hope.  If it could be done for these such cases sometimes, then was there hope for actual blindness?

But even still, he stayed silent.  There wasn't something he could do for his own child.  Again, he felt helpless.  Why did this always happen to them?

It was a long while before the doctor felt it would be right to speak about the child's future, Celena grieving as she was as she held the infant so carefully in her arms. Finally, she moved in front of her desk to lean on it, when she felt it was right.

"It will be a while before you should start thinking about her education and adjustment. Mr. Schezar, I'll assume - that you should handle her just as much as Mrs. Schezar, if not more so because of your unique common ground. Sounds should be introduced to Angelina early, music, touching faces - she won't need to start proper education for the blind until she's five years old. You have some time to spend with her before then."

"Five," he murmured numbly, giving a slight nod.  At least their daughter wasn't alone in the ailment.  At least they did have common grounds.  But even still.  Their daughter was irrevocably blind and there was no changing that no matter how much they wanted to.

 Allen had wanted a rather normal life for their daughter--as normal as one could get when your parents are siblings--.  His arm trembled slightly around Celena's waist as he tugged her minutely closer.

Dr. Lee said when needed to be said, and now her bedside manner was telling her to leave them alone for a while. She didn't need her office for the time being, as she was still checking other patience. Quietly, she excused herself. The moment she closed the door behind her, Celena finally let out the sob that was held in her throat for the whole time.

 "Allen . . ." She cried, "Angelina, she's . . ." she swallowed, unable to control the gasps that forced themselves from her lungs. "It was too good to be true. Wasn't it?"

Allen slipped his arms around her, tugging her close to him.  "It's... it's alright, Celena, we'll raise her right anyway..."  His lithe frame trembled softly as he held her and the child close to him.  Both he'd vowed to protect.  That was something he couldn't protect against, but he would do what he could to help her along the way with it.

 It might be easier, never seeing in the first place.

So they went home, unsure of how to deal with the news, but still being ever gentle with the infant. Celena had gone into a sort of haze, and every time she held the babe, she wouldn't move, afraid that any movement might make things worse, might hurt her daughter. Her grief filled the little studio apartment to an overwhelming degree, and there came times when she would be to tired to even stand and walk around, to care for her baby.


	27. And The Veil Lifted

**Author's Note: Don't hurt me.**

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**And The Veil Lifted**

Allen knew the men at the academy understood why there were times he couldn't show.  He held the child often, caring for her gently when Celena could not bring herself to do so.  He knew what it would be like for his daughter and he promised himself he'd always be there to help her.

 Ethan was distinctly heartbroken when he heard the news and he felt horrible for Allen and his sister.  They'd been so happy, and now this.  They suffered too much, those two.  It  was like someone had it out for them, really.  It was thoroughly disturbing.  But he was glad to see that they still cared for her, they still made sure the child was accommodated for.  What else could they do, anyway?

Chris, being Allen ever faithful friend and student, came often bearing gifts for the little one. He'd finally found a job working for a school, social advisement councilor - or something like that. A lot of the time, he would visit and Allen would have the crying babe in his arms as he answered the door. He wondered if today it would be the same, as Celena had been so prone to being bedridden.

 He knocked softly on the door to their apartment, holding a fuzzy plush rabbit of some sort of pinkish color.

Allen sighed softly, standing, the child held close, protectively as usual.  Allen worried over Celena and Angelina both.  He couldn't raise this child alone, but Celena often enough had no assistance to offer.  At this rate, he wouldn't be able to return to work... and he wouldn't be able to support the three of them.  But, determined as usual, he intended on doing it.  The blonde opened the door quietly, arching a brow in question.  Several of his students had stopped by before, as well as the trio that had originally taken care of them.

"It's Chris," he said automatically, fiddling with the plush toy.

"Ah?  Please... come in."  Quiet, like he'd been recently.  Weary.  He'd still managed to go to classes a bit, but that paired with taking care of the child so much, well... it was wearing him out.  

"I brought the little one a gift." Chris said, stepping inside and closing the door. He followed Allen into the main room, seeing Celena asleep on the bed - his brows furrowed. "How have you been, Allen? You look like a wreck."

Allen sighed, slumping onto the couch, shaking his head.  "I can't keep this up, Chris.  I can't raise a child myself and that's pretty much what I've been doing.  I can't keep not attending work like this."  The blonde's shoulders slumped slightly.

He was blind, just like his daughter.  That meant raising the child would be even more difficult.  "I can't raise a blind child alone, Chris, but Celena, it's... it's like she's just wasting away."

Chris bent down on one knee in front of his weary friend, pulling out an envelope from his pocket. He set the plush toy down on the couch, while he stared at the thick envelope, smiling solemnly to himself. Now that he had a good job, things had been easier - and he would be able to help his friend. "Nikki, Ethan and I were thinking about you, Allen. Through all this shit you have to go through." He took  a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he could let himself continue.

"We took the liberty of looking into something for you. Something that will help you. The examination is free, but if the doctor says you're eligible . . . Allen, you could get your sight back. And then you'd be able to care for Angelina, and Celena both. Things will be easier for you. . . . and I know what you're thinking. This kind of surgery - it's expensive." The envelope gently touched Allen's hand, Chris nudging it gently, "That's twenty six hundred dollars and it should cover it if the docs say they can do it. Nick, Ethan and I - we've been saving up since Angelina was born . . ." he explained.

Allen listened to the other, his hopes, despite his weariness, rising.  By gods... but even so...  "I... I can't take this money from you, Chris.  Surely you three need this."  Allen bit down on his bottom lip gently.  Chris, Nikki and Ethan... they'd done so much for them already.  They'd helped he and his sister constantly, they couldn't repay them for what they'd done so far, much less this.

The blonde shook his head slightly.  "How can I accept this?  I... you already have my gratitude for all you've done for us.  And now... more?"  Allen was shocked, they'd been saving this... for him, all this time.  For him.  He could see again, perhaps...

Chris watched the babe writhe in Allen's trembling arms. She cooed and whimpered - the sounds coming from her seemed so small. So helpless was the little one. . . Celena had begun to stir in her dreamless slumber. He stood and sat next to Allen, enough to be able to speak to him quietly and not disturb Celena.

"Accept it for the sake of your sister and child." said Chris simply. "Besides," he quipped, "Think of it as a birthday present."

Allen sighed softly, shaking his head a little and finally clasping the envelope in hand.  Holding the child close, he leaned into Chris, hugging him one-armed, sitting down gently on his bottom lip.  The knight trembled slightly, resting his chin on the other's shoulder.  "Thank you," he murmured softly, unable to keep the waves of emotion from flickering into the sounds.

Chris and the others were giving back something that he'd never even dreamed of having returned to him.

~

They made the arrangements to see the specialist, Dr. William Toby. Nikki baby sat Celena at home while Chris and Ethan brought Allen to the medical center. Now he sat on the examination table, Dr. Toby looking at a chart that gave a brief description of what the problem was. He kept humming to himself, in thought more than melody.

"Alright. I suppose we should have a look at those eyes then," he said nonchalantly, bringing out a flashlight and holding the beam directly into Allen's eye. "Do you see the beam at all?"

Allen didn't react to the light at all, slowly arching a brow.  "Ah... no."  The blonde was nervous about this.  It wouldn't only be if he qualified... granted, he had no idea what the qualifications were to begin with.

"Okay," said the doctor, looking into Allen's cornflower eyes deeply. The pupils were already slightly dilated but they were paralyzed that way. He looked passed the pupil, examining the inner walls of the eye for a moment before pulling back with a sigh. 

The blonde wasn't sure that was a good sign or not.  Nibbling lightly on the inside of his bottom lip, Allen waited for the man's answer anxiously.  Ethan was silent as he glanced at his brother, a little worried.  He could only hope that Allen was able to be part of the surgery.

"Well, we can do the surgery," began Dr. Toby with a sigh that said there's a but attached to the end of his statement. "But I'll be honest with you, and I won't confuse you with the details unless you insist. Your pupils are paralyzed, and you've had no protection from the sun for two years?"

Well, at least they could do the surgery.  Allen cocked his head to the side slightly at the question, shaking his head a bit.  "No.. no, I haven't."  Allen frowned a little.  There was some catch, of course.  There always was.

"We can restore your vision, Mr. Schezar," Dr. Toby said kindly, noting the way Allen frowned. "Though because you've had no U.V. protection for so long, your night vision will be totally gone."

"Then at night it will be no difference from how I can see now, is that what you're saying?"  Allen sighed softly, relieved.  If that's all... then he'd be perfectly fine with that.  He was used to darkness by now.

"Only in low light." answered the doctor, making notes on the clipboard. "And your vision might actually be a little distorted, blurry - but that could be corrected with glasses."

Allen smiled, nodding a bit.  "Then there's no trouble.  Those circumstances are fine by me."  Though he had a bit of a time imagining himself with glasses.  He'd just have to wait and see.

The surgery was scheduled, of course, as soon as they could possibly fit him in. When Celena had been told of the news, she actually seemed healthy enough to join them at the hospital when it came time for Allen's operation. She was still a little tired, but the news made her happy, even as she held her blind infant in her arms. The bags from her eyes were gone for now as she waited, wearing her black skirts and lace top, the infant wrapped in a fuzzy little blue blanket.

They all waited. Chris and Nikki sitting together, not unlike when they waited for Angelina to be born. It seemed like so many hours went by until a nurse finally came to inform Allen that he was in a room and he would be ready to go home in an hour as they'd used lasers in surgery instead of barbaric knives . . . No one could have stopped Celena from running to the room, still careful of her precious cargo. 

Allen glanced up as she entered.  She was a little blurry, but he'd been told about that.  The lights were low, his eyes still rather sensitive to the light.  He could see her form...

When she drew near, he lifted a hand cupping her cheek gently.  The blonde man smiled brilliantly.  "I know your face," he murmured softly, his voice trembling faintly.  His sight... by gods... his sight.  "I can see you, Celena..."

She was leaned in close to his handsome face, and she just burst with tears - her eyes searching his . . . nothing changed them. Nothing. They were so beautiful. The tears just dripped from her eyes, as she'd been holding them back since she heard the news that he was out of surgery. She still held Angelina, briefly looked down at her before handing the babe to him.

Allen carefully took her familiar form into his arms, letting his eyes trail down to her.  He laughed weakly, that smile on his lips, drawing the child close.  "Beautiful," he murmured softly.  "Both of you..."

She watched as he held Angelina, stroking a hand through his hair and planting a firm kiss on his forehead. "I love you, Allen" she said shakily as she pulled back, "And I'm so proud to call you my husband. She is beautiful, isn't she?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that I love both of you."  Allen smiled softly, turning his blurry gaze back to Celena.  "No doubt in my mind at all."

~

Since that day, it had been rather cut and dry. Allen was given prescription wire-frame glasses and went back to work while Celena was healthy enough to take care of Angelina at home. It was her heart that felt lighter for those days. It was odd, to see him without his cane anymore. Though because of his sight, he had to be shown where some things were again, since the routes were not visually in his mind.

Quiet days were spent with herself, really. Though she still fell asleep far too often, she tried her best to care for her babe.

Allen had surprised his students with his vision, the glasses perched lightly on the bridge of his nose.  And really... they did kind of suit him.  After getting over the first bit of disorientation, Allen was back to his normal self.  Though now his form was back to something far more natural, easier.  He kept contact with Sarah Mills, telling her of the surgery and how well it went, that he could actually see and read again.  And, of course, he mentioned how much he'd appreciated her help and wished her the best of luck with everything.  

He continued to teach Chris.  At first, he'd been a little surprised by just how the trio looked--especially Nikki and Ethan.  Allen had been quick to wonder about the variety of piercings each of them had, shaking his head a little, unable to understand just why someone would do it.  He was glad that Celena was crawling back to what she had been like before, excited beyond belief.  Things seemed to be going almost perfectly.

Almost.

The baby was screaming in her crib, but her mother was not there to tend to her. Oh, how the poor child tore its shrill voice from her throat, calling attention to anyone within the apartment complex. She was hungry, that's all. But no one came to her. Celena had been about to feed her, but now she lay on the floor, the warm bottle had fallen away from her grasp - she could hardly breathe. Her lungs burned and tightened, gasping for air - but there was hardly any to be had. Her eyes fluttered closed as her brain began to lose oxygen to keep her awake.

Allen had just been stepping in the door from yet another day at work when he heard the screaming.  The blonde frowned a little, thinking Celena had stepped outside for some thing or another.  With a sigh, raking a hand through his blonde locks, the man hurried into the room to work on quieting the child... but he froze in the doorway.  Celena.  Oh gods.  

Snatching up the cell phone and quickly dialing the 911 services, he crouched down beside his sister, resting a hand on her shoulder.  She was still breathing, if only slightly.  He was panicked, but listened to the voice on the phone.  Checking her pulse to make sure it was still there, rolling her onto her back and tipping her head slightly back to try and clear the air passages.  The ambulance was already on its way, so they had said, but he couldn't picture it getting there fast enough.  She looked horrible.  Absolutely horrible.  The baby cried on in the background, but he ignored her for now. 

Celena was already fading into unconsciousness, though she tried with a vengeance to keep her eyes open - in time to see Allen fussing over her, pushing his glasses upon his nose. Weakly, she smiled. Her lungs worked hard to bring in the air, but her body refused to accept the new oxygen. Her vision was already starting to close in on itself. She felt like falling asleep - and she couldn't explain why.

For a second, her eyes opened enough to take in the sight of him, his beauty in his worry, and in his love. And for that brief moment, she found air enough to breath out her last words to him, "Thank you, Allen."

"No!  Celena, gods, Celena, just hold on..."  Allen bit back a whimper, resting his hands on her shoulders, shaking his head.  It couldn't be.  He couldn't be losing her.  He couldn't be losing her after everything they'd gone through.  "Stay awake, please!"  Don't leave me...  "Celena, I love you, please don't go..."

The baby cried on, and Celena's eyes closed - her breath escaped her, and her head settled gently onto the floor. Her silver curls still shined, her skin was still glowing white porcelain, but the soft blush of her cheeks was fading. Her sweet pink lips dulled only slightly. 

Allen felt tears slip over his cheeks, grasping her narrow shoulders, shaking her slightly.  "Celena!  Please... please, don't do this... don't do this to me..."  The blonde's shoulders shook with sobs, tugging her close to him.  This wasn't any death mistaken this time... she was going to die and he could do nothing.  "I just got you back so little ago.. please..."

Her head lolled to the side, moving limply as he held her. Her body was no longer wracked with pain in trying to breathe, but suddenly light and so very still. 

 And the babe still cried.

 The paramedics had finally come, only too late. They had moved Celena onto the bed, checking over her life signs. When there were none, they shook there heads sorrowfully. Such a tragedy for a beautiful young woman to pass on so soon. . . Barely 21 years old. The ambulance was preparing to take her body to the hospital, and so was still parked outside, but not until after Allen had had enough time to grieve.

Allen had numbly taken care of the child, keeping her close.  He couldn't lose her, too.  The tears had finally stopped, but his grief had not.  His sister... he'd lost her all over again.  And this time, there would be no Gaddes to tell him that she really was alive, that she needed his help.  He was alone here, with no other contacts to his home world.  

 Did he have someone to contact here?  Allen nodded slightly but made no move to call those that had helped them.  They had dealt with enough of their problems already.

Both Chris and Ethan were already on their way there, whether Allen called or not. Chris had seen the paramedics parked out in front, and he felt something had gone terribly wrong - went back to get his brother, his sister was still at work. With Ethan trailing behind him, he came through the doors, quickly explaining to the paramedics that he was a family friend.

The sight that met his eyes broke his heart, shattered it completely. Celena lay on the bed, her hands gently lay across her middle, and a peaceful look on her face. Allen had his back to them, holding his child. He couldn't even speak. Could hardly breathe from the grief he felt in the small little room. . . .

And barely noticed the faint glow coming from Allen's chest.

Allen's lithe frame trembled, his eyes on the stiff form before him, willing her to move.  Willing her to live.  Panic and worry had no room... he knew she would not return to him this time.  He'd lost her.  He'd lost her all over again... after so long, after so very long...

Ethan froze.  "Oh God, no," he whispered softly, horrified.  The pallid set of her skin and the lack of movement of any kind gave it all away.  Numbly, the youngest brother moved to walk towards Allen shakily.  Numb.  He'd never seen Allen look so morose, so hurt... but he could understand why.  He'd loved his sister... and here she was.  Hadn't he said she was the only family he had, besides the child?

The light of Allen's pendant suddenly filled the room. It burst into light! The light swallowed them in, framing them - Celena where she lay, Allen with his daughter, Ethan, and eventually Chris. The light surrounded them - though it came from the pendant obscured by Allen's chest. The young Terran couldn't explain it, it just awed him. 

His head turned this way and that, frantically looking at the light. He could see nothing! 

"Ethan!" he called.

Ethan started a bit at the light and Allen slowly lifted his head.  Home.  "Look, Celena," he murmured softly, his voice trembling as tears began to spill forth all over again, booted feet already lifting off the ground, "we're... going home."  Allen sobbed, holding the child close to him, unaware of Chris and Ethan both in the light as well.  The younger sibling turned to face where he'd come from, wincing at the light, reaching out his hand.  

"Chris!  What's going on!?"

"I don't . . .," he started to yell. He dropped into two feet of snow. Yelping from the cold, his long sleeve dress shirt failed keep out. Chris scrambled onto his feet, his leg sinking into the deep snow to his knees. He was frantic, and confused. He looked around, panting. What the hell was going on?

He saw Ethan not far from him, also fallen in the snow, only by the looks of it, he took a head-on dive. 

Ethan had rolled a bit in the snow, lying still for a moment, shivering.  It would just be his luck that it was snow.  Dressed in a clingy, vinyl t-shirt... well, that didn't do anything to warm him.  He clutched his arms to his chest, stumbling to his feet, shivering roughly.  It was cold... and now he was wet, too.  His hair plastered to his face, he turned about, looking around frantically.  They weren't in Allen's apartment...

Slowly, his eyes trailed over the wooden fort before him, the towering timbers pulled together, the building still standing.  

Allen clutched Angelina close to him, wrapping the blanket tightly around her, though careful not to suffocate her in any way.  He himself was shivering.  The sight of the fort filled him with relief, though there were bits of damage here and there.  Still standing... by the gods... 

The blonde stumbled through the snow numbly towards the fort, staring up at it.  Asturia.

Chris only had a moment to look at his brother, too much confusion plaguing his mind, and no questions could get passed his lips. He grabbed his brother's arm before really thinking about it, chasing after the knight. The snow kept him from getting anywhere too fast, having to practically jump out of the stuff with every step. 

"Allen!" he called out, "Allen, wait up!"

Allen paused, turning to look over at them, his eyes widening slightly.  "You... as well?"  Luckily, Celena had fallen near the fort.  He picked her out easily, the black of her clothes against the white snow.  He crouched beside her, looking at her, then turned his gaze to the fort.  He couldn't open the doors here, not outside...

"Gaddes!" he cried, shivering.  He could only hope his best friend was still alive... "Riden!  For the love of... It's Allen!  Open up the gate!!"

Ethan stared over at Chris, then back over to Allen.  He knew this place...

"C-Chris...?  D'you think... w-we're in Gaea...?"

A guard took but a second to peak out of his post at the tower, to see who shouted up and demanded the gates to be opened - he had heard the name but being a soldier, he had to make sure. His shouts to the other tower were clear as the winter that surrounded them, frantic.

"Sir Allen approaches! Quickly! Open the Gates!!" he cried out, and the other soldier on duty nearly stumbled to do as he was told, cranking the large wheel and willing the timber gates to break open.

 Chris could hardly speak, looking at his brother in a wide-eyed state of confusion and fear. His brow worked, a frown on his lips as he just realized . . .

"You're not speaking English," he said, eyes widening even more as he looked down at himself, patting about himself and touching his throat. "Neither am I!"

Allen shuddered at the cold, glancing over his shoulder at Ethan and Chris, motioning them forward vaguely.  He shielded the child from the wind with his back, making his way inside, coughing a little at the biting cold.  Thankfully, his glasses had remained on, the small wire frames glittering silver in the light.  Once inside the fort, he wheezed softly, turning to look at Chris. 

"There... ah... Celena.  Go get her.  I... I can't."  Allen shook his head slightly, a bout of grief welling up within him.

Ethan stared at Allen, then at Chris, bewildered.  "How!?"  The redhead started, grasping his brother's arm.  "What the hell are we doing here!?"

Chris just shook his head. He couldn't answer. His throat constricted, and his teeth were chattering. If they stood there for much longer, their legs would suffer frost bite. He pulled his brother along with him, over to Celena's prone form. The young man picked her up gently, emotions waving and flowing through him in a heavy fog. He clenched his teeth, holding the girl.

"Come on," he managed. They would discuss the why and how later. For now, they followed Allen inside the fort. His head bowed. The snow was not as deep once they entered the parade grounds. Soldiers were walking along the wooden walls while they were on duty, but Chris saw none of it. He only followed.

Gaddes had come running out of the front of the castle, the rest of his crew trailing behind him. It was Allen alright. but he seemed different. The glasses, the child - behind him the two young men, one of whom carried a very pale Celena in black clothing. He was confused, and so that confusion blocked out whatever grief that might have filled him. There would be time to grieve later. 

Their commander was home.

"Allen!" he came up to the blonde man, unsure of what to do or say, not knowing what had happened but - from the look of Allen's clothes, and the two young men, - he could guess.

Allen looked up at Gaddes wearily, giving a weak little half-smile.  "So... someone's alive," he murmured, slipping to his knees, clasping the child close to him.  His shoulders shook and he sobbed, his head bowed.  They were home... even if Celena wasn't alive to see it, they were home.

Ethan stared, shuffling numbly along with his brother, pushing some of his hair behind him with a shaking hand.  Soldiers.  Allen was known here, they were where Allen was from...?  The boy glanced at Celena, shuddering both from the cold, as well as the sight of her lifeless form.  He saw Allen fall, saw him begin to cry and his heart wrenched.

Chris only swallowed, stumbling forward slowly with his charge, and coming to a stop behind Allen. Gaddes was so confused, but the sight of his friend so begrieved and heart broken - Celena was gone. He knelt beside him, a firm arm across his shoulders. He couldn't grieve with him, yet. It was too soon to be real for him. Too soon for Celena to be dead.

He only let Allen sob for a few moment, speaking into his ear, "It's cold. Come inside."

Allen stumbled to his feet, letting himself be led inside.  Celena... wouldn't want him to die.  She wouldn't want him to suffer.  Drawing shuddering breaths, he turned his head, looking at Chris and Ethan, nodding to them.  "Come on," he said, his voice still trembling, "fire and dry clothes... they'll do us good."

The two men only looked at each other for a second, before following him.


	28. Of Home and Sorrow

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Of Home and Sorrow**

They were led into the fort, to the barracks and into a room, given some spare clothing and mantles to keep out the chill, blankets for the spare beds in the room they were to share. Chris was glad to don the woolen clothing, feeling it seemed more like a costume than regularly clothes - the style was so strange, kind of like Renaissance Faire stuff. His brother had done the same, Ethan's hair and numerous piercings sticking out profusely with the style of the clothing - punk meets King Arthur.

"It's really happening, isn't it?" Chris asked, falling onto the bed in resignation. "And - And Celena . . . Oh, god, that poor girl - Allen . . . why does their family have to suffer so much?"

Ethan shook his head, slumping onto the edge of the bed with a shudder.  "I don't know... I just... but he still has Angelina, right?  And... and he's home.  Even if we're not... he... Chris, what are we going to do?"  The younger brother looked over at his sibling, shaking his head slightly.  he felt weird in these clothes and had gotten rather odd stares for his numerous piercings and the odd way he wore his hair.  He sighed softly, idly toying with the tongue piercings, like he usually did when he was nervous.

The other man just laughed bitterly, "Fucked if I know."

Ethan sighed heavily, his head bowed.  He heard the knock upon the door, blinking a little, lifting his head a bit.  "Ah... ah, yeah?"

Oruto opened the door, cocking his bald, scarred head to the side slightly.  "Boss wanted me to ask you if you were hungry."

Chris sat up to greet the newcomer, his face held nothing but sorrow and confusion. Looking towards his brother, he thought a moment. "Well, it wouldn't do us any good starve, would it?"

"Boss' in the mess hall.  Sarge is forcing him to eat."  The man motioned vaguely to them, turning to start to walk off, "come on, we'll get you some food."  

Ethan sighed, slowly standing and tugging his brother along, shuffling quietly behind the older man.  He chanced at glance at Chris, quirking a brow.  These people didn't look like soldiers... or what he was used to as being soldiers.  Casual clothing, a generally relaxed air.  Except when Allen was mentioned, then, at least for now, the tenseness would curl inside of them at the thought of their commander's grief.

The mess hall was unusually quiet, considering there were hundreds of soldiers gathered there, sitting on the floor and eating. Mostly there were just whispers between the men, not wanting to raise their voice to interrupt the mourning. Chris was the first one to enter, being led to a haybale to sit on near the captain's table - Allen's table.

He was their commander - holy shit! He'd almost completely forgotten everything that Allen had said he was, having been so used to seeing him not only blind, but going about their modern world - Earth. Gaddes had managed to get him to eat a little of the pork that was in front of him. A plate full of steaming vegetables and corned cake that looked like the stuff you would get at El Torito, thought Chris.

Gaddes had also managed to acquire a bottle for the infant from one of the villagers that lived near by, the bottle being made out of a sheep stomach and the nipple of something equally crude.

Allen was silent, eating only a little bit of the food before sighing, pushing it aside.  He couldn't.  He just couldn't.  He managed to get the baby fed--he didn't take the makeshift bottle away until she had finished it, she had to be healthy after all--and then, sat still, his head bowed.

Ethan was aware of the glances he and his brother got and he bit down lightly on his bottom lip.  He settled down next to Chris, sighing softly.

Both of them were handed plates with food similar to what Allen was eating, and Chris realized that they were not eating what the rest of the soldiers were - everyone had a plate of stew, or some sort of concoction like that, and a piece of bread. Here in the metal plate in his hands held pork, potatoes, corn cake and a biscuit. His brother too. Why the special treatment? he wondered.

Slowly, he began to nibble on the biscuit, the fork still on the plate. But after a while, he was impatient with trying to eat. He looked to Allen, and it seemed that he, too, had resigned.

"How's Angelina?" he asked softly. The crew looked at one another, but they all soon bowed there heads as well and kept quiet.

"Sleeping," Allen murmured softly, a faint sigh on his lips.  He looked haggard, pale, and the trembling in his hands was not from the cold anymore.  He was back home, he had wanted to return... but he had wanted Celena to return, to see it, as well.  But she couldn't... she would not see Asturia again.

"She wanted to come home, Gaddes," he whispered softly, closing his eyes behind the glasses.  "She wanted to see Asturia again..."

"I know," was all Gaddes could think to say. After having learned everything, being enveloped by Allen's grief as he was told all of what had transpired for the near two years he had spent on Earth - the Mystic Moon. His love for his sister, consummation of that love, the child born blind, Allen's sight returning, and Celena dying . . . It didn't seem fair, and tore at the soldier's heart . . . a love so pure, so innocent, to be fated and punished by the gods.

Angelina was a button though, he had to admit. Five months old now, and she was very much taking after her lineage - a line of beautiful people. Her father held her so tenderly, so carefully and protectively. Gaddes had no doubt in his mind that Allen would be a good father to her. 

Allen was silent for a long moment, then sighed, standing up and glancing around the mess hall at the soldiers gathered there.  Underneath the cloak, he worse the familiar leather breeches tucked into heavy, lined boots, the poet's shirt thick, silken sash at his waist.  "I know... it's been awhile," the blonde started, speaking loud enough for them to hear.  He couldn't just show up without any explanation.  These man he trusted, they deserved to know.  

"But I am back.  And..." Allen fell silent for a long moment, then glanced over at the original crew of the crusade, giving just a slight smile, "we have a princess among our midst.  I expect you to treat her kindly, now or I'll have to clean you up, if you know what I mean."  Even though he didn't feel it, his nerves still numb from the loss of his sister, he grinned.  "And these two gentlemen," he motioned to the brothers, nodding to them, "are guests.  The one nearest me is Chris, and the one beside him is Ethan."

Chris suddenly looked scared at being introduced to so many surly men, only managing to wave absently at his name being mentioned.

Gaddes cleared his throat softly, "A-Allen, I need to tell you something . . ."

Allen glanced over at Gaddes, arching a brow slightly.  It didn't sound good at all.  The blonde frowned a little.  "What is it...?"  He spoke softly, looking at his best friend and second-in-command warily.

The sergeant stood and went to speak into Allen's ear so that no one else would hear them. "It hasn't been that long since you left," Gaddes said quietly, "It's only been a month."

Allen blinked, looking at his friend.  Then laughed, smacking his shoulder hard.  "Don't scare me like that, Gaddes!"

The man only shifted slightly under the knight's friendly blow, but his expression remained unchanged and grim. Basram was still marching. They still intended to take over Asturia while she was politically weak. He shook his head and looked down.

Chris leaned over to Ethan, "Do you know what's going on?"

Allen's face fell.  "Millerna.  Have they gotten past the fort!?  Allen tensed, starting, staring at his friend.  "Have they begun making their way to Palas!?"

Ethan blinked, looking over at the two, then to his brother, shaking his head.  "No... I... I don't know at all..."

Gaddes shook his head again. "We've had scouts search for them - their armies aren't moving." He looked at Allen square in the eye, suddenly aware that he could see again. "They're growing."

Allen narrowed his eyes darkly.  "And what about Van?  Fanelia?  Is their support still here?"

"King Fanel moved his armies to a different location, requesting that the Queen go back to Fanelia out of the danger. Basram is massing their armies to the southeast, airships . . . boss, they have the air galleons with them. The ones that took out most of the battle field during the great war." He looked away, his mouth turning into a frown as he saw everyone was listening to them. "We shouldn't be talking about this here."

Allen sighed, shaking his head, drawing his cloak close about he and his daughter.  He turned, walking out of the hall briskly, knowing Gaddes would follow.  One-armed, he pulled himself up the ladder to the upper parts of the fort.  They could talk here.  They always could.

The babe in his arms cooed and coughed softly at the movement, the chill air  hitting her little face and making her blink in surprise. Gaddes hastily followed his commander, jogging down the hall as he tried to keep up with Allen's long strides. Climbing the ladder, his gaze fell onto Allen again, heavily cloaked and waiting for him to finish what he needed to say.

"Allen," said Gaddes softly. "I am so sorry . . . about Celena. I . . . " he stopped. There were no comfort in any words he could possibly say on the matter. He only asked softly, "Where should we bury her?"

Allen shook his head slightly, sitting down, his back against the railing.  He didn't take the chair this time.  "Inside.  She fought... just like the rest of them.  She'll be buried with them, among them.  Just like... you and I, if we can't stop Basram.  I... I can only hope there'll be someone to do it, Gaddes."

Gaddes swallowed, moving next to his friend, kneeling to look down at the bundle of blankets in his arms. He didn't expect the tears, really - he was so used to holding in his grief. But the child that Allen held was a catalyst for them, and as he gazed down at the infant's angelic face, he couldn't keep them back any longer. 

"You have a beautiful daughter." was really all he had managed to choke out, reaching out to touch the infant's platinum locks that had begun to grow in curly cues upon her head.

Allen sighed softly, leaning his head against Gaddes' shoulder, closing his eyes.  "So much has happened... I wish... I wish you could have seen how happy she made Celena..."

A hand rested behind Allen's head, slowly stroking the knight's blond hair - comforting, consoling. Now that they were alone here in this special place, he didn't have to keep up a facade. "I remember," he said to Allen, "How much she wanted children. I know how much you loved her, enough to give her that wish, and she loved you, Allen. She'll live on in your daughter." He smiled slightly, "She already has her curls."

Allen laughed a little, quietly.  "She's... she's blind, you know."  The blonde sighed softly.  "I thought... I'd never get to see her.  I thought I'd never get back here, that I'd never see any of you again."

Gaddes nodded, "I know, Allen. But you're here, and you're daughter is here. We're all still here." He kept stroking his hair, not sure if that was what the knight needed, but he did it anyway. His cheek, rough with stubble gently scratched against Allen's smooth face - and he became wary, starting to pull away.

"No, please... I... it was odd, not being able to talk to you when something was bothering me."  Allen sighed, shaking his head a little.  He didn't want Gaddes to go, at least not yet.

He nodded, and settled back with Allen's head leaning on his shoulder. "You've been gone for nearly two years. Yet here it's only been a month. I'll never understand how that works." he said.

"I don't either, not at all..."  Allen sighed softly, holding the slumbering child close to him, but staying near his friend.  Like always, he found comfort in Gaddes' closeness.  And after losing Celena... he didn't want to be alone.

"What are these for, anyway?" Gaddes asked, a weak smile playing across his lips as he touched Allen's glasses. "You look like a scholar."

"Ah?  Well, I..."  Allen smiled a little, lifting his head and looking up at Gaddes through the clear lenses.  "A medical procedure was performed on my eyes to correct them.  But... they couldn't fix them all the way.  Without them, my vision is still slightly blurry."

"But you can see - everything?" he asked, happiness filling him once more - even if only a little.

"I can see you, the fort... I can see again."  Allen smiled softly, nodding a bit.  "That world... Gaddes, it has so many developments, it's amazing..."

"I'm so glad," he said, relief filling his heart, brimming over with love for his friend, "Gods, I'm so glad that you have some happiness left. Your sight, and your daughter. That's what matters, isn't it?"

"It is... Celena... she wouldn't want me to revert back to how I was, you know... when... I lost my status as a knight.  I know she wouldn't want me to.  That's why... I'm glad I'm back here.  I have you here... and, and the others..."  But mainly Gaddes and he knew his friend was aware of that fact.

Gaddes nodded, smiling slightly and giving his friend a look that meant he felt the same way - that he was glad he was back, and that he would remain loyal to him always. He looked down at the baby, her face chubby with baby fat, the skin white and blushed. "Could I hold her?"

Allen nodded slightly, a soft smile on his lips.  He trusted Gaddes with her, just like he'd trusted Gaddes with Celena.  The blonde gently held out his daughter to the other, careful not to jostle her as they transferred arms.  He still had a place for Gaddes, and always would, in his heart.  Always.

 By gods she was tiny. Gaddes can hardly remember the last time he held an infant in his arms, his brother and sisters living so far away and are all grown now. He was only a child when he held his little brother in his arms. But this little bundle - was a vision! She was the very image of heavenly perfection. And hold her like he was, Gaddes couldn't help but feel the vestiges of pride . . . like her father surely must have felt when she was born.

"Such a lovely. Such a lovely." he whispered, bringing the blankets close around he little frame. "My gods, she's such a lovely. So small and helpless. And beautiful, like her mother and father."

Allen smiled softly.  "She'll be in good hands here, among all of us, you think?"  The blonde chuckled a bit.  "A princess."  Allen sighed a little, looking up at his friend, offering a shy little smile.  "You'll help me, right?  I don't think I can raise her myself."

The question didn't even need to be asked. It was known already, in both of their hearts what the answer was. How could he not care for this precious little jewel? "I - would know how to raise a blind child, but - of course, I will, Allen. I will always be there for her if you asked it of me. I -," and he smiled, "I'll be her uncle Gaddes."

Allen grinned a bit, nodding.  "Good... I knew I could count on you."  Allen looked at him... then snickered softly.  "I can just imagine it, too.  Heh heh... Uncle Gaddes..."  The blonde grinned teasingly.

Gaddes touched the little one's fair curls, smiling as well. "She'll be safe here. We all will for now." He looked to Allen, an expression that said to reassure him, "Basram is far enough away right now that we can plan strategy. The queen has since sent us word back that we're to hold our position in this fort. There are other forts, Allen. And she also mentioned that she's started allies with Cesario, Daedalus, and Egzardia, as well as Fanelia. We'll be okay if we stay here. Need to survive the winter first, after all."

Allen smiled softly, nodding.  "Good... you've handled them well while I was gone, I see.  I expected no less."  The blonde watched his past lover fondly.  He was good with kids, Allen realized... and knew he should have realized it before.  Gaddes had, even though he'd been only a few years older than he, taken good care of Allen when he'd first come here.  There wasn't any surprise.  

~

Smiles seemed few and far between as the winter days trudged on, unrelenting with their frozen winds. Few soldier's could be spared to be out in such weather while on the fort walls keeping watch, most of them huddled indoors to do repairs, clean, sharpen weapons and polish armor - anything to keep warm.

Meanwhile, Gaddes tried to figure out what to do with their new guests. There really wasn't anything either of them were good for. Although, Chris had been ecstatic about the amazing about of swords that were in the armories of Fort Castelo. After much begging, he was finally allowed to help with their upkeep.

There was a plot of land, in the far corner of the fort, where soldiers were buried if they had fallen. Some fell during the last battle with Basram and were since laid to rest there in that small graveyard that was surrounded by a wrought iron fence. It was in that graveyard, near the back, that Celena had been placed into the frozen ground.

Allen once more bounced back after Celena had been safely buried away.  He made sure to visit her often and was pleased to know that the brothers did as well.  He had easily stepped back into his role as the commander there, his demeanor changing from when he was on Earth.  He was more relaxed here among faces he knew well.  Riden, all of them.  The glasses fit him well enough, really, considering his tendency to read up on philosophy and the like.  While he was a soldier, he was still an aristocrat.  

Clothes changed drastically from what he'd worn for the past two years.  He'd once more fallen back into his swashbuckling state.  Though he did pull his hair loosely back a lot more.

He'd continued with Chris' sword training here.  A good way to keep up the skills, to entertain the soldiers around, and keep the blood flowing in the cold.  But even though he was a soldier, he was a father and Gaddes and he both spent joyous times taking care of his daughter.


	29. Angelina Schezar

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Angelina Schezar**

Three feet tall and dressed for spring time, a little silver hair angel followed the ropes along the hallways that her father had been so careful to put up. She held her head up high, as she was the princess of her castle, which father and the others never failed to remind her of. Even Uncle Chris and Uncle Ethan would refer to her so highly, which she always found to be funny, considering how much they snickered to themselves.

The little five year old had a wicked grin on her pale face. It almost scared Gaddes how intelligent she was sometimes. Her hand followed the course rope lightly, coming to a knot that told her she'd reached her father's quarters. There she fell to the floor and let out a wail.

Maps were in hand, but at the cry, he started from his thoughts, dropping the maps, the compass, the quill and nearly knocking the ink well off the table.  "Bloody...!..."  He bit back anything else, standing and shoving the items away, padding over to the door and throwing it open.  "Princess!?"  Allen knelt down before her, looking at her worriedly."

She cried, her voice tearing from her throat, her head tilted back. Her little fists were balled up and she kicked her legs upon the floor. At his worried tone, she screwed her eyes shut. Then she fell over, fainting.

Allen's eyes widened considerably behind his glasses and he scooped her up in his arms, checking for any injuries that might have befallen her.

A large grin crept onto her face, sweet though it might have seemed before. Her giggles could hardly be contained, as he had inadvertently tickled her when he picked her up.

Allen paused, pursing his lips a little, then held her close.  "Princess?" he asked mock worriedly, all the while trailing his fingers in a tickling manner up her sides.

She writhed at his touch, her laughter coming forth like bells, and her hair flying about her in long silver ringlets tied with bows. "Father, stop!" she laughed, trying to push his hands away, kicking her legs frantically as he held her.

Allen laughed, stopping tickling her, hugging her close.  "You little scoundrel."  He laughed again, shaking his head.  

She giggled again, her arms hugging his neck. They stayed like that for a few long moment, her father always feeling so warm and comfortable. She really loved his embrace. Her hands idly played with his long hair, stroking it and relishing its softness. "Father?" she asked.

Allen held her gently, like always, smiling softly as he hugged her.  "Yes?  What is it?"  The blonde smiled.  She always smelled good, so sweet and soft and perfect.

Pulling back gently, with that same mischievous grin upon her lips, her hands found his face - his lips. She asked very sweetly and politely, "Can I have some sweets?"

Allen grinned a bit.  "Have you had any normal food today?"  Not that it would matter.  He'd give them to her anyhow.

Her eyebrows went up and she answered quite honestly, "No."

"Well, make sure you have some later.  Of course you can have some sweets, princess, whatever you want."  Allen smiled gently, standing and curling his fingers around her hand.  "Shall we see what we can get?"

"Sweets?" said Gaddes, having heard the tail end of their conversation - long enough to know that Angelina was using her wicked sweetness to get what she wanted from her doting father. Again. He came up to them. "I don't think so. Allen, show some backbone, will you?"

Allen pouted a bit over at Gaddes, looking up at him through pale lashes and glittering cerulean eyes.  "I have a backbone... just not when it comes to her.  How can you resist something this adorable?  Go on, princess, use your persuasiveness on Uncle Gaddes."

Angelina smiled up towards where she'd heard her uncle's voice come from, scrunching her shoulder and holding her fist to her chest - biting her lip. Oh, gods, it was . . . too cute.

Gaddes came up to her, a bit of a growl coming from his throat but his smile betrayed him. He touched her head. "You wicked little imp."

"Go on, princess, go on.  Keep at it."  Allen grinned, looking at Gaddes.  It was like he could use her to get anything out of anyone.

"Ah," Gaddes groaned, trying to turn away from the little girl - who kept up the act. His heart constricted, his lip snarled. "Why am I cursed with the world's cutest little demon?"

Angelina blew raspberries at him, her fist finding her hip. "I'm *not* a demon." 

Allen laughed softly, resting a hand on her head.  "Good girl, Princess."

Angelina lifted her head into her father's touch, a sweet smile on her lips. Without any warning, she took off running down the hallway, careless and not holding her rope - which only slowed her down when she had discovered how much fun it was to run. 

"Race you to the kitchens!" She yelled behind her.

Gaddes, frantic and worried that she might hit a wall, ran immediately after her.

Allen started, glancing at Gaddes, then started off after her.  Worried that she would hurt herself, of course, but this was fun, they had to admit it.

She her hands on the walls, feeling the bars that indicated she was near the end of the main hallway and to the stairs that led to the barracks below. The last bar hit her fingers, and just as she was about to run into the wall, she grabbed it and swung herself around to barrel down the staircase and disappear ahead of the two floundering adults.

Gaddes, a bit winded by the time he reached the staircase and start down the steps, barely managed to say, "She's got way too much energy for a five year old."

Allen grabbed the railing, sitting on it and sliding down, flashing a grin up at Gaddes as he landed on his feet.  "I wonder where she gets it!"  The blonde laughed, turning on his heel and starting off after her again. 

Chris had just stepped out of the room, oblivious and innocent to what was about to run into him. A flurry of ribbons in a little white dress smashed head long into his stomach, Angelina silver ringlets flying about her and a little 'O' of surprise formed on her lips. She fell backwards and onto her rear, shaking her head and feeling generally dazed. 

The impact made Chris stumble slightly, finding his balance with a hand on the wall. It was then that he saw the bespectacled Allen running up to meet them, Gaddes following closely behind.

Allen skidded to a halt, crouching down and scooping up the girl and flashing a good-natured grin over at Chris, a little out of breath.  "Just... heading to the kitchen... for some sweets... you know... how that is," he panted, laughing a little.

Ethan blinked, standing and padding over to them, cocking his head to the side.  

"Well, at the rate that she's going - she'll hardly ever get fat from you feeding her so much candy. Little tyke's already an athletic runner." He straightened his tunic, looking over to his brother with a grin. "Well, I was going to head to the armory. I guess I'll see you both at dinner."

Gaddes grinned over at him. "If we haven't broken our necks falling down stairs chasing after the princess, yeah, sure - we'll be there."

Allen grinned, shaking his head a bit.  "I can't help it, I can't deny her anything, we all know this."  Not that he'd really want to.  

Allen chuckled a bit, looking over at the others.  Her growing up had lightened his grief and with Gaddes there... it made it that much easier.

Angelina buried her face into Allen's hair, her fingers combing through the softness of it. Gaddes look at them both, feeling nothing but joy for Allen and his daughter. They had each other and it seemed to be enough for the knight that his daughter was growing up well. He would always stand by his side, and the pride that the little girl filled him with was sometimes a little overwhelming.

Chris only smiled and excused himself to get back to his duties - essentially both he and Ethan had been enlisted into the Asturian army, though it was never really made official. His footsteps were heard trailing down the stone steps that would spiral down into the main floor of the castle. Angelina, meanwhile, felt for her father's ear and tugged on it.

Allen blinked a little, tipping his head to the side at the tug on his ear.  "What is it, princess?"  He held her close, like he usually did, that smile lingering on his lips.  She really was a beautiful little thing.

"Can we get sweets now?" she whined softly. Gaddes only rolled his eyes. Gods, there really was no way to help it - Allen would crumble beneath a five year old's will. Even Gaddes had to groan sometimes.

"Of course, Princess."  Allen glanced at Gaddes, smiling, heading off towards the kitchens.  "What kind of sweets do you want?"

"Glazed butter biscuits!" Came the immediate answer.

"Well then, I'm sure we can manage that, hm?  Anything for a princess, of course!"  Allen laughed softly, carrying her in with him.

Gaddes just followed silently, feeling defeated. He spoiled the little girl way too much, and the sergeant wasn't exactly sure if Allen realized what he did. He feared that one day, Angelina might get it in her head that she could get anything she wanted - even if it ended up being something dangerous. She would not only hurt herself but everyone else around her.

The cook in the kitchen was already busy trying to prepare the evening meals, a large pot of stew over the monstrous fireplace simmered, in the corner of the fireplace were additional pots and that most likely cooked Allen and Angelina's dinner. The man was just bringing out bread from the oven when Allen surprised him with a visit. Of course, he should have stopped being so surprised whenever the noble knight came down to the kitchens - as it was common place for the little girl to ask for something from the pantries.

Allen smiled softly, looking over at the cook.  He realized how much he spoiled her and how dangerous that way, but he had such a hard time denying her.  She didn't have a mother after all... and the fort was hardly a place for a young lady to be raised.  "Go on and tell him, Princess," murmured Allen, stroking her hair gently.

"Can I have some sweets?" she said, never moving her head - she didn't know where the cook was until he actually said something. 

The cook faltered for an answer, looking over at Allen with a sort of silent, desperate plea, "Sir Allen, . . . you really think it wise to be givin' the girl sweets so soon before her supper?"

"Small."  Allen waved a hand a little.  "Something light, of course."

Angelina already had her hand outstretched, waiting. "A glazed butter biscuit please." She said. The cook's shoulder slumped, having learned a while ago that it was not good to argue with one of the cutest little girls to ever walk the face of Gaea.

Resigning, he reached over into a cloth covered basket near the stove, handing her the little biscuit. "There ye are, love. But that'd be the last one before supper." Angelina just giggled, thinking it was so funny how they tried to admonish her but never really did. She bit into her biscuit happily.

Allen chuckled a little, nodding to the cook, stroking her hair gently.  "What do you say to him, Princess?"  Ah, she was just too adorable.  She grew on everyone, just like Allen had.  Back when, who could deny Allen much of anything, either?  And he'd passed that on to his daughter.

"Fank yoo," she said through a mouthful of the sweet, buttery biscuit. She chewed eagerly and took another bite of the biscuit. The cook only laughed gently, going back to his work. The biscuit disappeared far sooner than Angelina would have hoped, and soon discovered her hands to be empty. Her father still held her, and her arms flew around his neck. "May I have another? Please?"

Okay, so sometimes he could say no.  Allen smiled, stroking her hair.  "After dinner.  Waiting makes the fruit grow sweeter, so they say."  

She sighed, knowing that he would denied her the second biscuit. She pulled back a little, her hands searching his face, and her brow furrowed. "Father," she began quietly, much too serious for a five year old, "I had a dream about mother last night."

Allen frowned a little, shifting his hold gently on her.  "You did...?"  He nodded to the cook, then turned, starting quietly off down the hallway.

Her little fingers found her father's lips - she loved to feel his lips the most. And his hair. Everything about her father was soft and gentle, and she knew he would never hurt her. "I don't remember it very well," she said quietly, "But mother was soft and she smelled nice. Like flowers. Her hair was curly like mine, wasn't it?"

"It was...and the same color, too.  You remind me a lot of your mother."  Allen smiled softly, his arms comfortingly about her.  "I hope it was a happy dream."

"I don't know that either, father . . ." she said softly, her little fair brows knitting together. "When I touched her face in my dream, I felt her cheeks were wet. . ."

Allen sighed softly, kissing her forehead gently.  "It's just a dream, princess.  It just means that your mother is looking over you."

"Was my mother nice, father?" she asked gently, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Very, princess, very," he murmured softly, wandering the halls with her close by.  They did that a lot, just wandering, talking.  Sometimes she would fall asleep on his shoulder, sometimes the dinner bell would ring and they'd head off to the mess hall.  It was always... peaceful.

"Oh! Oh, father!" she began to bounce excitedly in his arms, nearly making him lose his grip on her as she moved. 

Allen blinked a bit, grasping her gently to make sure she didn't fall.  Eek.  "Ah?  What is it?"

"Are we going to read some more tonight? After dinner? You promised you'd teach me more words!" she tugged on his lapel in her enthusiasm, smiling and giggling the whole time.

"Of course!"  Allen laughed a bit, nodding slightly.  "Of course we'll read some more."

"Father?" she nagged again, pushing her head against his own. "What does spoiled mean?"

"Spoiled?  Well, several things.  Referring to what?"

"Well, Uncle Gaddes and the others always say that I'm spoiled." she said matter-of-factly, squirming a bit to get out of his hold. She loved it when her father carried her, but she liked walking under her own power much more sometimes.

Allen set her down on her feet, smiling a bit.  "Well, it means that you get anything you want, princess."

The moment her feet hit the floor, she sat down in the middle of the hallway. Then sighed heavily, playing with her ruffles of satin. She was happy that she got anything she wanted. Everyone was nice to her, even when she came up with devious things to do to them. But her heart didn't feel complete with that answer. She couldn't really explain why. Just that she . . . 

"I'm bored. . ." she declared with a resounding sigh.

Allen crouched down beside her, reaching out and stroking her hair.  "Princess, what's wrong?  There's something more, you can tell me..."

"How come you don't let me go outside by myself?" she whined, fiddling with her ribbons now. "I hear the swords with they clash - when the soldiers are swordfighting. And I want to do that too. But you never let me go outside unless you or Uncle Gaddes are with me."

"It's because I don't want you to get hurt, honey.  I know you do well enough on your own, but it worries me when you go off on your own.  It's just me being protective is all."

She pouted and crossed her arms petulantly - so very like Celena when she was five. "I won't get hurt. I wanna be a knight like you and use a sword."

"When you're older, princess, when you're older."  Allen sighed softly, kissing her forehead again, stroking her hair in a fond manner.

"You were blind too, right, father?" she asked, her hands outstretched and searching for his face. Deft little fingers found his glasses, "But now you wear these and they help you see like normal people?"

"Along with something doctors did to help me see, yes.  But I was blind at one time."  Allen stroked her cheek softly, looking at her from behind the clear lenses.

"Can doctors do that to me so that I can be like everyone else?" she asked, almost happily. It really wasn't a matter of being able to see for her. Her blindness wasn't the issue by itself. No, in fact, she didn't know that blindness was any sort of hindrance. . . just that it was uncommon, not like others. And the only thing a child really wants is to fit in. . . she was acutely aware that she didn't really. She was a girl, too - there were no other girls at the fort except her. 

Allen sighed softly, a small smile on his lips, guiding her fingers to his lips so she could tell he was doing so.  "But you are special this way.  There isn't a single thing I'd wish changed about you, princess."

"I don't want to be special," she said frankly, touching his lips softly. "I want to be normal like everyone else."

"Why not?  Why don't you want to be special?  It makes you even more lovely than you already are."

She took her hands back to clutch them to herself, as she was mostly prone to do when she stood still - having experienced a nice hot iron to her hand once when she'd keep them outstretched all the time. So she was very protective of her hands when she stood still. "I just . . . it feels funny. It makes me have a stomach ache sometimes. . ." it was the best way a five year old could explain it.

Allen pursed his lips a little, looking at her, cocking his head to the side slightly.  The blonde continued to idly stroke her hair.  "Does it make you want to cry sometimes?"

Angelina nodded, sinking more into her self and playing with one of her ringlets.

Allen pulled her close into a gentle hug, stroking her back.  "I felt that way sometimes, after I lost my sight."  He never really spoke of it, even to her... but he felt it might be good to let her know.  "I felt alone, even though there were people there with me.  Is that how you feel?"

"Not really," she said honestly, quietly and enjoying her father's embrace - loving the smell of him. "I don't care that I can't see. I just don't want to be different anymore."

"It's okay, princess... it's okay to be different.  We're all different from one another, anyway."

Gaddes finally came down the hall, a bit winded. When he spotted the Schezars, he strode up to them. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you two. Dinner's ready in the mess hall." he said. He crouched down next to Angelina and her head immediately turned toward the sudden sound. "Is the princess ready to have her supper? Or did her father fill her up with sweets?"

"She had one."  Allen grinned a little, lightly smacking Gaddes' shoulder.  "Do you want to walk, princess, or be carried?"  Allen kept an arm about her as he asked, glancing over at Gaddes.

The sergeant threw him an exasperated look that just screamed, 'Stop coddling her!'

"I can walk, father." she said delightedly, jumping up to her full three foot height, her ringlets bouncing and swaying about her face. Her hand searched the air briefly to find Gaddes' hand, and she clasped it tightly.

Allen just pouted teasingly at Gaddes, standing, raking a hand through his hair.  "Well then.  Shall we be off to dinner?"

With an affirmative and confident, "Yes!" Angelina took her father's hand, both Allen and Gaddes leading her - sometimes they pulled her up off her feet so that she could swing in-between them, and she would giggle hysterically as they did so.

~

 Angelina was relatively happy being doted on, her father always giving her pretty dresses he had sent for from Palas. Her nightgowns were always just as pretty, longer than her half-calf gowns and less ruffles, but the material was always finely spun cotton with satin ribbons. She even slept like a princess. She knew it was late at night, as she walked the corridors just outside of her bedroom. Her barefeet made no noise as she stepped.

She came to the knot in the rope that indicated she'd reached her father's bedroom door, and after a quick search for the doorknob, she opened it. Her ropes ended in the hallway however, and she hadn't really memorized her father's room. The moment she entered, her hands were outstretched before her and she walked forward slowly, hoping she would find the bed somehow.

She listened to the soft breathing coming from her right, and so followed it straight on - only to bump into a small table. Her hands scrambled helplessly to keep it from falling, but to no avail. Suddenly scared of the noise she'd caused, she dropped to the floor and sat huddled into herself.

Allen slept easier now than he had when he'd first gotten back.  He'd stopped dreaming of Celena constantly, finally.  Curled up on his side, he tensed, starting at the loud noise, eyes flickering open.  One careful hand snuck out to grab his glasses and slip them on, the other under the pillow thro the knife he kept there.  Breathing.  He could hear breathing.

It was late and he couldn't see worth anything then.  Fumbling around for the candle nearby, always on his bedstand, he quickly lit the wick.  If it had been an attacker, they'd have long since taken their advantage already.  He slid the knife back where it had been, blinking to allow his vision to register the light.  His vision wasn't perfect like this, considering how low the light was, but at least he could make out the small, huddled form nearby.

The blonde slid off the bed, padding over to her, crouching down and putting an arm around her.  "Princess, are you alright...?"

Angelina had heard her father wake up, feeling horribly guilty for being the one to rudely do so - but at the same time, she couldn't stop her tears or her thoughts about the dream she'd had. She kept having them, more often than not. Some of them were scary, others . . . started out nice, but then turned into nightmares. And she didn't understand much of it.

Her breathing was ragged, cheeks stained with tear trails. Her knees were brought close to her, she hugged them tightly - afraid to touch anything. 

"I dreamed again . . ." she choked.

Allen hugged her gently, then picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, setting the candle aside.  He lay with her beneath the covers, curling her close to him.  "Shh, shh... it's alright, they're simply dreams, princess."  Allen stroked her hair softly, holding her close, brushing away her tears.  "It's alright, I'll protect your dreams, I promise.  I'm your knight, after all, mm?  It'll be alright, I promise."

The candlelight that lingered flickered slightly in the chill room. Angelina squirmed and wriggled to turn around and face her father, her little hands finding his ears and eventually his hair. She gently tugged on the golden locks of his hair, sniffling pathetically and snuggling into the pillows. "You were hurt, father. In my dream . . . You won't leave me too, will you?" She whimpered and pressed her little body into Allen's chest.

Allen hugged her close, stroking her back.  "Of course I won't, princess.  I'll be here with you for as long as you want me to be, okay?"

"Forever," came her muffled response, her face buried in the front of his night robes, "Forever and ever."

"Very well, then.  Forever and ever."  Allen held her protectively, head resting gently against the pillows, continuing to softly stroke her back.


	30. A Sword and A Lie

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**A Sword and A Lie**

The soldiers of the fort all knew to look after Allen's princess. They were like her family, brothers - all 300 of them. There wasn't a single person there who didn't know who she was, and why a little blind girl would be wandering about the halls of a castle in the middle of nowhere. She'd lived there for five years, after all.

She loved to wander about the castle, and just recently got the fancy in her head about being a knight and playing swords. She heard them clash, and the gasps and vigorous shouting of the men - though she never really understood what a sword actually was. She never saw one, and she was certainly never allowed to touch one - but she also never thought to ask. 

Her second favorite thing to do was go up and down steps. Because she loved the way the spiraling tower of staircases echoed when she yelled from the bottom. She was climbing down some steps, to do exactly that, to hear her echo. She yelled a couple of time, aiming her voice upward, and was satisfied with the responses she got as her voice bounced off the stone. A few moments of that, however, and she grew bored.

There was a hallway next to her and in front of her. She'd been around here before, but never really through the doors, because her father always said she wasn't allowed to go through the doors. Well, her father let her do whatever he want, and he wouldn't yell at her if she decided to go through a silly door.

So she walked the length of one hall, driven by her curiosity, her hand trailing the wall. Her fingers came across a doorframe that stuck out for her to feel. She grinned, feeling for the door knob excitedly and quickly going inside.

~

Allen was outside with one of the newer soldiers to have been stationed there.  He'd noticed a bit of trouble with some of the ways he handled the sword and he'd decided to take care of that.  Ethan sat on the railing upstairs, watching quietly.  It really was neat to watch, he had to admit... though it was more fun when Chris was there, of course.  Then, for one, Ethan had a reason for staring at his brother.

Here, the blonde always seemed so upbeat, so relaxed among these people... and Ethan could see why.  They were soldiers, but not the stone-faced, muscular marines he was used to.  These were normal guys, really, pulled into the army in one way or another, all fighting to save the country.  And all of them seemed to respect Allen immensely.  Ethan... was happy  for Allen.  He'd gotten home, he still had his daughter and his friends.  He deserved it after what he'd gone thought... and he, Nikki and Chris didn't know the half of what he'd actually been through.

Angelina stumbled slightly out of the main entrance of the castle, as she was busy sniffling and crying. The reason was plain enough to see, her little hand dripping with blood. She was being very brave about it, actually - only tears falling and no sobs wracked her lungs. The blood stained the pretty little pink dress that Allen had been so hard pressed to put her in that day, as she was sometimes stubborn about such things.

One hand out stretched since her ropes ended, she walked forward until she knew where the steps would be, and promptly sat down to nurse her hand. 

"Where is father?" She cried, sniffing and using her good hand to wipe at her nose.

One of the soldiers caught sight of her, dashing out into the open area, looking around for Allen.  It didn't take long to spot the blonde among the other man, and he padded over to him, explaining what he saw.  Everyone knew the princess and everyone knew how protective Allen was of her.  He didn't even need to say anything before the man he was sparring with told him to go, and the knight turned on his heel, hurrying in the direction the other had told him to head in.

He paused when he saw her, then knelt down beside her, stroking her hair and gently taking her hand in his.  "What happened, princess?" he asked worriedly as he picked her up and started off towards the apothecary.

"I don't know what it was, but something bit me." she sniffled, hold the offending hand carefully. Her head pressed against his as he carried her, her little lips finding his cheek as she tried to comfort herself with giving him kisses there. Allen frowned slightly.  Biting.  Who would know what might have gotten into the fort and bitten her.  

"Well, we'll get you taken care of, okay?"  Allen quickened his pace slightly.  He hadn't fully inspected the wound in her hand.  Otherwise he might have figured out it was a sword that had done it.  But he was moreso worried about getting her taken care of, of course.

Melzin the healer was thankfully still with them, and he examined the girl's hand closely as she sat on his table. He was very good at cleaning the wound without causing her pain, tsking her every time she'd let out a sniffle and reassuring her that it was just a scratch and only seemed worse than it was. Which was true for the most part. 

"Something scratched her up good on her little palm, that's for sure." said the healer, wrapping up the hand in bandages.

Angelina moaned in frustration. "It bit - it didn't scratch."

"Any idea of what it might have been?"  Allen cocked his head to the side slightly, looking at the man that had been there to care for him when he'd needed it.  He stroked her hair softly, brushing a kiss against her forehead.  "It's okay, princess, he'll be sure to take care of you."

"Any number of things," shrugged the healer, "But none of them living creatures."

Allen pursed his lips slightly, silent, then chuckled a bit.  Wow.  He felt like an idiot...

"Well, considering the area she was in... princess, did you go in any of the doors?"  He continued to softly stroke her hair, looking at the girl fondly.  His worries eased slightly at the apothecary's assurance.

"No," she lied, and quite well for a five year old. Her head shook, and her face was the same innocent one she knew how to do to get what she wanted.

"Well... where did you go, princess?"  Allen arched a brow slightly.  "Where did it happen?"

Oh, she hadn't thought he would ask her again. . . She fumbled for an answer, her lips pursing and she hummed for a really long time, "Um . . . I don't know." she finally said.

Allen slowly arched a brow, thinking over the things that were around there.  She surely wouldn't go into the armory, he'd made sure she knew that set of doors was by far off limits.  The kitchens were too far away for her to have gotten herself hurt there...Allen pouted thoughtfully, nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip.  It never crossed his mind to think that she'd lie about such a thing, of course.

"Can I get down now?" she asked impatiently, a heavy sigh escaping her. 

The blonde arched a brow, tugging her off the table and setting her on her feet.  "Just be careful, okay, princess?"

"Okay," she said, slowly following the wall of the apothecary to get to the door, before entering the hallway. She chose to go left and tore down the hall like a whirlwind. Melzin looked thoughtfully toward Allen.

"She's lyin to ye, lad." he said frankly, in that same fatherly tone he'd always been renown for.

Allen blinked a little, glancing over at the man.  He was silent for a moment, then sighed softly.  "The thought never crossed my mind.  It makes sense, though."  It was something children, and sometimes adults, too, did to get out of trouble.  Allen rubbed the back of his neck lightly. The healer took a few careful steps toward the young knight, now a father, and put a hand on the man's shoulder - reassurance. 

"Laddy, you dote on her far too much." he began softly, "I know ye miss the girl's mother, but she needs to grow up knowin' there are things out there that won't always tell her yes."

Allen looked at the older man, bowing his head slightly.  "I just can't deny her anything.  I know it's not good for her to get everything she wants.  But I have such a time saying no to her.  I think it's partially because of Celena and the fact that I'm her only parent left."  And the fact that she was just too damn cute.

Melzin thought about his next words carefully, knowing the man's plight and trying to spare him some of the pain. When children are spoiled, they spoil badly sometimes. "If you do not deny her, one day she might end up hurting you - very badly. Because she will believe that it is not wrong."

Allen looked at the man curiously, appalled at the thought of it happening, but... Melzin hadn't steered him wrong before.  He'd been there to help he and Celena both when they'd needed it, and through these past years, he had been there to aid him when he'd needed it.

Melzin took another breath, stepping away from the man to work on mixing some concoctions he had brewing over a small controlled fire. "The bite on her hand," he said simply, pouring liquid into a beaker, "It was a sharp object. A knife or a sword."

"The armory," he murmured softly, sighing.  The blonde rubbed the back of his neck gently, bowing his head.  She hadn't been out among the soldiers... they would have told him if anything had happened.  

"I do have one question though," said the healer, stirring some sort of blue stuff before pouring it into a vile. "Exactly when do you plan to reprimand her for lying to you?"

"I don't know."  Allen sighed, shaking his head a little.  He really wasn't cut out for raising a child.  "I don't even know what to do to reprimand her."

"Well, don't go over the top." was all the healer said, getting back to his work. Gaddes, being the ever watchful father figure to little Angelina, had heard what happened and assumed she would have still been in the apothecary. Somehow, though, he wasn't surprised to find that she was not. Although he did catch the end of their conversation.

He leaned in the doorframe, arms crossed with a smug expression on his face, "Little demon lied to you too, huh?"

Allen paused a little, turning to look over at him, grinning sheepishly.  "And it never crossed my mind.  I've told her over and over not to go into the armory and she got injured doing so."  And then she hadn't told him when he asked.

Gaddes went to him, stiffly and with a reproachful look on his face. His lips were pursed into a fine line and his brow was furrowed – he was not pleased. "Do you know where I found her today? She was outside. By herself. She *sneaked* outside after I told her to stay indoors. And do you know how she got there? By going through the guymelef hanger. Do you know who showed her that door? You did, because she wanted to go outside where it was quiet. And guess what, she found it on her own."

Allen was silent, looking at him from behind clear lenses.  "You're kidding me.  You have got to be kidding me."  Allen sighed heavily, shoulders slumping, running a hand through his long hair.  "Argh... I can't do this..."

"Can't do what? Show a little backbone?" admonished his lover, one hand on his 

hip and a frown on his face.

"No, no... I mean raising a child."  Allen sighed, shaking his head slightly.  "And you know I can hardly do that, either.  I know I need to or she'll just keep getting into trouble, getting into something she can't get out of... but she talks about how she dreams of Celena and I can't help but feel for her not having a monther."

The sergeant let out a sigh, taking Allen's arm and quickly leading him out of the apothecary. It was a conversation that wasn't meant for others to hear. Once they were walking down the corridors, their duties for that day forgotten for the moment, Gaddes spoke again, "Allen, listen. You're a good father. I don't think anyone really just knows how to raise a kid, especially one with  . . . a special need. But I think we just have to look passed all that, and realize that she *is* just a kid, and doesn't need to obe coddled all the time."

Allen listened silently to his friend, his head slightly bowed.  Thoughtfully, he tucked his hair behind an ear, nudging his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.  "I might be a good parent, Gaddes, but a man alone cannot possibly raise a child right.  Look at the problems my family has... Gaddes, I'm scared that she'll turn out like Celena or myself.  We're not normal."

"Who wants to be normal?" asked Gaddes truthfully, "I mean, hell, if you've ever seen my family, we're *definitely* not normal. I've got six brothers and 3 sisters, various ages, in one ranch. Sure, it doesn't compare to a noble family like yours - but my point is that there is no normal. You just do the best you can. That's what my mom did. And we turned out okay for it."

"She does."  Allen waved a hand slightly, dismissing that after a moment.  "I know I can't afford to be so self-conscience about it, but I don't really know the first thing about raising a child, much less reprimanding one."

Gaddes pulled back, laughing bitterly and full of scorn. "Five years and *now* he figures out he can't raise her. For gods sake, Allen! Get a hold of yourself."

Allen sighed, shaking his head slightly.  "I need to, I know.  It's just another obstacle in my life.  Alright, alright... I'll reprimand her for it."  

"Good," he sighed, clapping Allen on the shoulder, "I'm sure you'll be fine. I'll need to get back to my duties, but let me know how it works out, okay?" With that said, he left  Allen in the hall alone.

Allen leaned against the wall for a bit, sighing softly.  He really did need to take care of this problem.  But he dreaded it... as he was sure most parents felt.  But Gaddes and the others were right.  This was for her protection as much as anything.  With another sigh, the blonde pushed off of the wall, wandering around the fort, trying to find her, asking around for any sign of her.

~

Angelina, being ever curious like any little girl, loved to poke about her father's room. She'd known about the heavy oak chest that was set aside to one corner, and she'd tried to open it before when her father was off doing his duties, but she was never strong enough. She was proud, as she figured she must have grown stronger - and the lid of the chest lifted open.

 Her hands plunged inside and immediately hit fabric, tightly packed and folded. Her fingers flew around the garments as she tried to determine that they were - lace and ribbon on one, her hands pulling at them, satin fabrics like her own dresses . . . they were dresses! She hugged one to 

her and pulled it out. They were *heavy* dresses and used more fabric than she had ever felt on 

one garment.

As the mound of fabric fell onto her, she hugged it closer, standing and hearing it drag across 

the floor as she made her way to her right. The dress smelled so very nice, and the cool crisp 

satin felt refreshing on her fair arms. One hand wrapped around the fabric, the other was outstretched and searching for obstructions. Near the window, the light just barely tickling her skin, she found the little lace covered table - she knew it was lace by the course feeling of the doily.

 She grinned, her hand patting around the top of it and finding the little wire tray. On the 

tray, she felt bottles - her fathers cologne and powders. Oh, how she loved her father's smell. Grabbing one of the little glass bottles, she slowly brought the top to her nose to smell the rosewater. She smiled, tipping the bottle - only a little - to put some of it on. She was thoroughly surprised when it didn't pour out the scent, but an abundance of liquid.

A long time of wandering led Allen back to his own rooms.  He'd found her there a few times before...

 The blonde pushed open the door with a soft sigh, slipping inside.  The first hint that 

something wrong as the overpowering scent of his cologne.  Now normally he couldn't smell it that 

much.  Allen frowned slightly, then caught sight of the open chest and his heart wrenched.  He never looked in there, the grief over it too close to his heart.  One of the gowns was missing.  Panic fluttered in his head as he glanced about, then caught sight of his daughter.

The gown's front was covered in the scented liquid.  That much was obvious from the dark spots on the surface of the pristine cloth.

"Angelina," he murmured softly, shocked, "no..."

He'd told her many times to keep out of the chest, to leave the items within alone.  Of course

... when did she ever seem to listen to him recently.

Angelina, caught like a rabbit in a trap, gasped and turned her head to her father's voice. The bottle dropped back onto the tray, nearly empty. "Father," she said, tugging the soiled dress along with her as she approached him, "The dress smells pretty now. Was it mother's?"

Allen stared at her as she approached, taking the dress from her and smoothing his hands over it.  The blue one.  One of the ones he'd bought for her so long ago.  The blonde shuddered, the rustle of the cloth evident as the dress was clutched close to him.  His throat tightened.  It wasn't memories of her that choked him up as much as small reminders of her.  

Sometimes the way Angelina would settle her hands on her hips and speak sternly to him in a  

teasing manner, the dresses... roses.

"I told you before... I told you to leave the chest alone, Angelina..."

"But father," whimpered the little girl, playing with one of her silver ringlets, "I wanted to see what was in it. *You* never tell me so I thought I'd find out for myself." She finished with a triumphant nod.

"I told you to leave it alone and that means you do so.  Do you understand? It shouldn't be opened and the things within shouldn't be played with.  I can't believe you... I told you explicitly--just like the doors you passed through today--to leave them alone and you still went about it."

Angelina pouted. She didn't like her father's tone. Her little head bowed a little, and she held up her bandaged hand, as if that would give her the sympathy she was looking for. "But something bit me!" she argued, "And I wanted to see what was in the chest. I'm a princess. I can have anything I want!"

"Something 'bit' you because you went into a place I told you not to go into.  I tell you these things for reasons.  You cannot go opening that chest and playing with just anything that suits your fancy.  You got hurt because you ignored what I had said."

She stomped her foot petulantly, yelling loudly and leaning forward in her vehemence, "But you *said*! You said I can have anything I want! You said! You said! You *said*!"

"And I said you cannot look into that chest, that you cannot go into certain places.  Many of these things I say to protect you."

That's when she screamed. Her eyes screwed shut, her little fists straight down her sides and she screamed loud and clear. There was a point when her little silver curls and cherubic face would be becoming, but now she looked like a fair faced demonic doll as her shrill cry resounded through the rose scented air of Allen's chambers.

Allen winced a little at the piercing cry, looking at her, the dress clutched tightly to his chest.  It hurt to see her so upset and he wanted to soothe it, to ease it away... but that would teach her nothing except that with enough pushing, she could get her father to do anything.  The blonde knight was sure that cry could be heard for a ways down the hallway.  "Stop. Just stop, Angelina.  I'm not going to let this go.  You've lied to me and blatantly ignored things I strictly told you to stay away from."

Her screaming made her dizzy, and so she let herself fall to the floor on her bottom. At that point, her voice was raw, and when she tried to scream again, it came out more like a choked sob. Her little hands went to her blind eyes, pressing little fists into them. "You said I could have anything. I'm the princess. You're my knight. I can have anything I want! It's not fair!"

"You can't have absolutely anything you want, Angelina."  The dress was carefully lain aside, draped over the length of the bed.  Allen looked at his daughter with a mix of hurt and determination.  He had to ride this through.  He had to make sure it started to get through to her.

"I hate you," she whimpered softly, rubbing her fist on her eyes before scrambling back onto her feet. She wasn't paying attention to where he'd moved, so she faced the other direction, sobbing and yelling out quite clearly, "I hate you! You're not my father! My father would give me anything because I'm his princess!"

Allen tensed, his eyes widening slightly.  No matter how much he and Celena had bickered and fought, she'd never said such a thing.  And he could only remember his own hatred of his father before he'd found out the truth.  The knight stared at her, shocked, a distinct pain swelling in his narrow chest.  Hate. It didn't register that the words were spoke in anger, in a heat of emotion... all that mattered was that she had spoken them and the mere sound of them tore at his soul.  What if she really did hate him?  What if she didn't want to be at his side anymore?  

"Don't say that," he murmured softly, looking sadly at her, trembling a little.

Angelina could barely think, so distraught was she that this time he had denied her. Her father had never really done such a thing, never spoke to her so coldly. And whoever this man was, it couldn't possibly be her father . . . "I hate you!" she yelled again, sniffling loudly and turning to run for the door. Her shoulder glanced off of the doorframe and made her fall to her knees, skidding to a stop on the floor. She cried.

Allen shuddered as she screamed at him again, as she ran past him angrily.  He turned slightly towards her as she passed by him, furrowing his brow, pained, as he started towards her where she'd fallen.  "Angelina..."

She had given up trying to escape, and now only curled up on the floor, crying into her arms. Her sweet little voice was wracked with whimpers and sobs, her trembling little frame making her ribbons shake. Her ringlets were strewn about her head. She looked like a weeping angel, with only the floor as her comfort. 

 "I want my father . . ." she cried.

Allen crouched down beside her, lying a gentle hand on her shoulder.  "I am your father, Angelina," he murmured softly, long hair draping over his shoulders as he leaned slightly towards her.  He had done his damage, now it was time to heal her wounds.

Slowly, and with many sniffles from her button nose, she sat up, facing her father - her eyes always gazed upwards, but they were still the same sapphire color as her mother's. Little hands weakly searched the air, and she found his chest, thin and lean with muscle. Another sniffle, and she moved to lean into him. "I'm sorry, Father," she cried, "I only wanted to see the secrets in your chest. . . mother's dresses. . . . father, why did she leave us?"

"She... she was ill."  Allen put his arms around her, hugging her gently.  "It hurts me to think about her... that's... that's why I told you to stay away from the chest."

"Didn't she want to stay with us?" she sniffled, cuddling him there as they sat on the hardwood floors of the fort.

"She wanted to... but the gods wouldn't let her, Angelina.  I wish... I wish you could have known her."

"Me too." she said wistfully.


	31. Heartache and Pleasure

**Author's Note: We would like to apologize in advance for any offensive content, grammatical and/or spelling errors, and other mistakes in details that would annoy our audience. Hope you still enjoy the story . . . *hopeful smiles***

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Heartache and Pleasure**

Later that day, after Angelina was told to play with her toys in her own room, Gaddes finally came back from exercises on the field, dampened with sweat and so very ready to bathe. He came into Allen's room, surprised to find him sitting on the bed. What surprised him more was that he was gazing at one of Celena's old gowns in his hands - most of the fabric strewn about the bed in crumpled folds of crisp blue satin.

Allen sat cross-legged on the mattress, staring at the fabric before him.  He wished... he wished he could have seen her in it.  He wished he'd had a chance to tell her how  beautiful she looked in it. After registering that Gaddes had entered the room, Allen lifted his head slowly to look over at the older man, blinking a little.  The blonde slowly, sadly smiled, tears unshed lingering in the corners of his eyes.  

"I wish I could have seen her in it..." he murmured softly, voice trembling.

            Gaddes wouldn't dare sit on the bed when he was in such a state of disarray. Not to mention the wreaking stench of his clothing. All he had wanted to do was take a bath, and because he and Allen were – partners – he had privilege to the tub. Sympathy was a plague, sometimes, and it really did wrench at his heart to see Allen so distraught. Celena was a sweet girl, after all, and she was his sister and lover – purer love than any man could have hoped for in a woman. To lose her after having their child . . . sometimes, it was too much pain to endure, and he would find Allen sleeping as the tears seeped through his slumbering eyes.

            "That gown . . . she wore it after you'd gone blind?" he asked softly.

"She did... I bought it for her months before, but she'd never worn it."  Allen sighed softly, tucking his legs to his chest, fingers brushing against the cloth softly... cloth that no longer smelled like Celena.  Though he could imagine it, just like he did with any other item of hers.  Of course... after so long, none of them smelled like her anymore, they'd all absorbed the scent of the cedar wood of the chest they had settled in.  

            After a few moments, the blonde stood, the dress in hand.  He couldn't stand to look at it any longer.  He knew he'd cry if he kept this up.  And... it was unfair to Gaddes.  Quietly, he folded the dress, setting it carefully inside the chest and closing it, another sigh on his lips.

It was a touchy subject. If anything else was said about it, Gaddes knew Allen would be a wreck with the memories of his sister. He inwardly groaned - it's not that he didn't feel for him, or sympathize for him . . . he just really wanted to take a bath. It might be better, he thought, if he changed the subject quickly before Allen got even more upset.

            Peeling off his shirt over his head, he gave a contented sigh as the cool air of the room hit his tanned skin. "Ah, well, I think I need to take a bath. Exercises were tough today." he winked.

Allen offered a small smile his way, watching as his lover started to undress.  What better way to distract himself from Celena's death?  And it wasn't like he didn't enjoy Gaddes' presence anyhow... that much had been proven over and over.  The blonde slunk over to Gaddes, resting his hands on the man's hips, looking up at him from behind the little wire-rimmed glasses.  

"Shall I join you?"

Gaddes quirked an eyebrow, rolling his eyes and leaning forward a little. He had a smirk on his face that told Allen to stop being such a woman. "If you're so inclined." he quipped. Allen pouted slightly at the implication, smacking him on the shoulder playfully.  Woman.  Pfft.  

The truth was, Allen liked washing Gaddes' hair for him, cleaning the day's hardships from the other's flesh.  It wasn't something an aristocrat would do, but... he ignored that and did it nonetheless.  It was something he, himself enjoyed, the same treatment, and he'd decided to bestow that upon Gaddes as well.

Gaddes heaved a sigh, stepping away from Allen to go to the dumb waiter in the far wall by the fireplace. "I suppose we should get some hot water up here first." he grinned over his shoulder, and set about ordering three buckets of hot water. He closed the dumb waiter and leaned against the wall, wearing nothing but the stiff leather pants and his boots.

Allen smiled softly.  His hands smelled strongly of the rosewater that had been spilled as he'd taken the time to stop angsting to clean it up.  Unfortunately, the bottle was near-empty, now, after the incident... he'd had to get his hands on some more soon enough.  The blonde sat down lightly, gazing around the room.  After losing his sight, then getting it back, he'd learned to spot things easier, take in more... if he ever lost his sight again, he wanted to have as many memories of what he did see as he could manage.

"You know," said Gaddes, still leaning on the wall next to the shut door of the dumbwaiter, "Those glasses look good on you. But what *I* think is that you should take them off. Oh, and undo your hair . . . and the shirt. Yeah, you'd look better that way."

Allen blinked, glancing over at him.  The man chuckled a little, reaching up and tugging the long locks of hair out of the loose ponytail, letting them fall about his shoulders softly.  Soft, cerulean eyes watched his lover from behind the glasses as he calmly unhooked the shirt.  The glasses were the last to go, carefully setting them aside.  The blonde blinked a little to let his vision adjust to the sudden difference, though things were still a bit blurry.  

            "Mm... that better?"

Gaddes hummed thoughtfully, not moving from his spot - arms crossed over his bare chest. The sweat had since dried on his skin, leaving him salty and sticky with residue. Flashing a grin that Allen's probably couldn't see very well, he gave him a node. "It'll do for now." Oh, he was a cheeky one.

The blonde just smiled softly, inclining his head.  to the faintly blurry outline of the other.  It always seemed to be like this, rather playful and easy.  It wasn't that he wasn't serious about being at Gaddes' side, moreso that the interaction with him was just... more friendly.  With Celena, he'd been there to protect her, to be strong for her.  He loved her, and he could feel at ease with her... but he had to be strong for her.

            But with Gaddes... he didn't have to be.  He didn't have to protect Gaddes, he didn't have to worry over him.  Granted, there were plenty of times when Allen still did worry over him, but never near as much as with Celena.  No... she was soft.. Gaddes was rugged.

It seemed they stayed that way for a long while, until finally the water buckets were sent up - three hot steamy buckets full of fresh water. Glad for the interruption of the silence, he poured them into the small tub behind the ornate screen in the corner of the room. Without so much as a warning or invitation, Gaddes had already begun to strip behind the screen and was glad for the warm water that met his sullied flesh.

Allen had slipped on his glasses to make the trek to the other side of the room easier.  The blonde slipped the leathery breeches and undone shirt lightly off, the boots already set aside, along with the gloves he'd taken off when he'd cleaned up the spill.  Setting the glasses aside on top of the clothing, Allen shuffled in behind Gaddes, for a moment resting his chin on his lover's shoulder.

The sergeant closed his eyes, his smile pleasant and musing. Allen's chin was always clean shaven - always. He didn't think the man even *grew* whiskers, and if he did watch Allen shave once in a while, he would have really thought facial hair simply didn't grow on the man. "You know," began Gaddes lightly, "If I never saw you without your clothes on . . . I would have been left wondering if you really were a man sometimes." 

Allen arched a brow slightly, his arms around the man's middle.  "Why do you say that?"  The blonde knew he wasn't the manliest creature ever... but he never thought it was that bad.  One arm lifted, tracing his thumb idly along the other's jaw line, smiling softly at he tickle of that seemingly ever-present stubble.

"Because you're so pretty," Gaddes answered readily, more of a statement of fact than a compliment. His lips puckered comically as his stubble was petted under his chin, a grin quirking at his mouth. "I guess I should shave then, huh?"

As far as the pretty comment, Allen just sighed, shaking his head a little.  It wasn't his fault he had a bit of his mother in him.  "Mm... it'll just grow back anyhow."  Allen grinned, nuzzling his cheek softly.  "And I like it.  Stubble just looks horribly stupid on me... when you can see it.  But if you didn't have any, why... I think the world would be ending.  You've always got it."  

"Well," he said, his head automatically tilting back to invite more of Allen's gentle nuzzles, "I thought tonight would be special."

Allen continued to softly brush his fingers along Gaddes' jawline, pressing a gentle kiss to his lover's neck.  "Mm... every moment with you is special, Gaddes."

Ah, the attention - he loved the attention and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. He got so little of it when he lived at his home, with his enormous family. Now he had a nobleman, pretty to boot with his long blond hair, all to himself. Not mention the adorable little girl that had become like a daughter to him as well. He would probably be a little put off if Angelina ever started calling him 'mother'. 

With these thoughts in his head, he suddenly chuckled.

Allen blinked a bit, pausing his finger's travels.  "What?"  He had no idea what it was going on in Gaddes' head, so he was left to wonder.  Some of the long hair slipped forward, brushing against the older man's shoulder softly.

            Allen wouldn't know what to do if Angelina called either of them mother.  He'd panic, probably... or blush and wave it off... or do something equally as flustered.

Gaddes let his chuckle die down a bit, but the grin was still there. "Oh, just thinking - you're more of a mother than I am. I just wouldn't fit that role very well if she ever started calling me her mum."

"Oh, by... Gaddes, only you would think of it, I swear.  I don't know what I'd do if she called you such a thing.  It'd just be... odd.  Embarrassing, probably."  Allen pursed his lips slightly, a little bit of a chuckle on his lips.

"Yeah," he grinned, sort of a lopsided musing. The water was warm and comfortable, just like Allen was warm and comfortable as he was pressed into his back. His hand came up and lightly touched the smooth chin of the noble, turning his head and planting a hard kiss upon his pink lips.

Allen purred softly, his eyes half-closed as he returned the kiss in kind.  Yet another difference with Gaddes... you didn't have to be as wary of harming.  Gaddes wasn't so fragile.  Gaddes' weight leaning lightly against his was comforting and comfortable, and the blonde's fingers immersed themselves in the short, dark locks of hair.

For the moment, thoughts of Celena were long gone, replaced by need and hunger and comfort. It was just him and Allen, and that was what mattered. He felt the noble's soft fingers catch his hair, the gentle tug on his scalp thrilling and strangely arousing. This man before him - he was so pretty, for lack of a better term. It amazed Gaddes to that day that a man could just be so astoundingly attractive. Usually that wasn't how it worked.

Behind the blond hair, the muscled from, the deep cornflower blue eyes, was the most gentle man Gaddes had ever know. His skin was soft, perfumed and powdered every day. A doll, really. He had his own, life-sized, better-than-butter porcelain doll. As he kissed the plump lips of the man before him, he smiled slightly, thinking, 'So that's where Angelina gets it.'

Allen loved the brush of the other man's stubble, a sharp contrast to the smooth, soft texture of his own flesh.  But his lips... they were always soft, always silken and the faintest trace of salt lingered on their surface thanks to the day's earlier activities.  Allen didn't mind.  Beneath the scent of the day lingered that musky, manly smell that was distinctly Gaddes, a familiar smell.  Everything about Gaddes was familiar, things he had experienced before, but never grew tired of.

Wandering hands soon found the flesh of Allen's lean stomach, and he traced his fingers along the gentle, subtle grooves of his abdomen, grinning into his kiss. His other hand was held firmly behind the noble's head, embedded into the soft gold of his hair, the mixed scent of his salt and Allen's powder playing along familiar memories. He was just about to reach down, to stroke and tease the delicate manhood . . . 

"Father . . .?" came Angelina's innocent voice from the doorframe. Gaddes pulled back, letting out a heavy sigh and letting his head fall to Allen's shoulder in resignation - never a moment to themselves, it seemed.

Allen tensed slightly, all too startled.  Oh gods.  Of course, it would be right then.  Taking a moment to steady himself, his voice, his breathing, he slid on his glasses, biting back the grumbling that began to surface.  For a moment looking at Gaddes, exasperated, the man stood, slipping out of the water, wrapping a towel around his waist.  The blonde padded over to his daughter, kneeling down before her.  

"What is it, princess...?"

"Oh!" she let out, feeling the little splashes of the water he trailed out, hearing the water rustle. She blushed, her little head scrunching into her shoulders, "I didn't know you were bathing with uncle Gaddes. But - I can't find my horse. It's usually in the same place in my room, but now it's not there."

Gaddes heard well enough from behind the screen, grumbling quietly to himself. He decided he might as well take the time to start washing himself before Allen came back to continue their romp in the tub. Taking some glycerin soap, rubbing it into his hand, he started washing his hair and body.

"Mm, it's alright."  He'd walked down the hall in a towel before... it wasn't the first time this had ever happened, after all.  Allen took her hand gently in his, walking back towards her room.  "We'll find it for you, okay?"

She was, of course, oblivious to the fact that Allen was naked except for the mere towel that covered him. All she really wanted was her little horse, that had somehow gone missing. Everything in her room was in a meticulous spot, a certain place and never moved or else she wouldn't find it. So for something to go missing like that was just odd and disturbing - or she had little regard for her own handicap and never bothered to put things back where she'd found them.

            They entered her room, and she stepped over to the bed, carefully with measured paces. "It's usually under my bed, father."    

Allen pursed his lips slightly, crouching down by the bed and peering under it.  He wandered around the room for a bit, looking for it.  Ah, yes... the little wooden toy lay on it's side on the other side of the room.  Bare feet padded quietly across the room and he scooped up the item, walking back over to her and settling it in her small hands.  "There you go, princess.  It was all the way across the room."

Her eyebrows lifted into her silver bangs, her grin showing her little baby teeth. She dropped to the floor next to her bed, leaning into the soft covers that hung over the edge and set the horse on the floor. "Will you play with me, father?"

Allen blinked a little, ruffling her hair softly.  "I need to finish my bath, princess."  He always felt bad when he had to leave Gaddes there like he had... and he missed it, anyway.  He enjoyed it just as much as Gaddes did, and then pulled away, even if it was by his daughter... it was always testing.

"After your bath?" she tried sweetly, leaning her head toward him and smiling in that adorable, irresistible way.

"Mm... alright, princess, alright."  Allen kissed her forehead softly.  "I'll be back here when I'm done."  With that, the blonde turned, walking outside, shutting the door and heading straight back to his room.  Once inside, Allen headed quietly towards the bath, running a hand through his hair with a sigh, setting the towel about his waist aside.

Gaddes was just rinsing his hair out, taking the cup by the tub, filling it with water and pouring it over his head. He had a grin on his face as Allen came back, the flutter in his chest unable to be quelled. "She really is too cute to resist, you know." he said to him, smoothing his wet hair as the last of the soap suds fell down his back. "We're a happy little family, aren't we?"

Allen smiled softly, sliding back where he had been before, resting his soft hands lightly against Gaddes' back.  "Mm, we most certainly are.  She wants me to play with her afterwards."  Allen shook his head slightly, sliding off the glasses and setting them aside as he brushed his lips against Gaddes' cheek.

Gaddes gave an exasperated sigh, "And I suppose you failed to remind her that dinner will be ready soon?" He smiled nonetheless, leaning into kiss.

"It completely slipped my mind," he murmured softly against the tanned flesh, the smile evident in the curves at the edges of his lips.  He smoothed his hands over Gaddes' back, his eyes halfway closed, hair slipping over his shoulders.

Even as Allen's hands worked over his skin, as his own hands found themselves reaching up behind his head to feel the noble's silken face, he still managed to keep conversation, despite the distracting blood flow into his manhood. "Have you thought about her education lately?" he said softly.

"If we weren't right on the edge of war, I'd send her to school or get her a tutor.  But I suppose I'm going to have to take that role, mm?"  Allen sighed softly, taking the soap and lathering up his hands, leaving trails of it as he worked it into Gaddes' flesh.  He always enjoyed things like this, with Gaddes.

Gaddes forced such thoughts from his mind, knowing it would only make him talk about Basram and their massing armies - their secrets and how Asturia was defenseless against such power. No, they couldn't start talking about that. For now, he was content in being with his lover, in the role that he played in his family and all the perks that came with it. 

He smiled when he could feel Allen grow hard against his back, wanting to hold it and tease it, play with it. But given their positions in the small tub of soapy water, he satisfied himself with stroking the insides of Allen's legs that were on either side of him. Eventually, one of his hands found his own hard member and he gently stoked it to stimulate the gentle tingle, making him groan softly. 

"Gods, I love you. Even if you are a noble priss sometimes."

Allen shivered slightly at the soft groan that fell from Gaddes' lips and he trailed his hand along the other's side, lightly batting the brunette's hand away.  "Let me take care of that," he murmured softly, playfully, his voice purring.  So much had changed about him since the first time they'd touched one another like this.  He wasn't hesitant any longer, or too frightened to try and please his lover.

            Allen's own arousal was silently reminding himself of its presence, but he ignored it for now.  Just feeling Gaddes, indulging in his flesh.

The softness of Allen's hands always made him fall back in pleasure. The heavenly feeling of the noble's gentle fingers working over the pulsing organ, pumping the hot blood into the vessels and touching every nerve in his spine. It sent a chill through his body, electrifying and rendering him helpless against the other man's bare chest. He leaned his head back onto Allen's shoulder, a sigh escaping passed his contented smile, and a groan emitted from his throat.

"Gods, you feel so good," he breathed.

His hands stroked with varying pressure and speed, pressing another kiss to the man's neck.  "You're so beautiful like this," he purred, his breath hot, husky against the other's flesh.  He loved the way Gaddes reacted, he loved the feel of Gaddes beneath his fingers, pressed up against his skin.  It was intoxicating, a drug, and it gnawed at him pleasantly.  So good...

The warm water that surrounded them both did not do anything to quell his erection, already firm and hot beneath Allen's velvet touch. The noble's soft skin at his chest felt so good as it rubbed against Gaddes' back, and he pressed into him, feeling Allen's own firmness at his lower back, relishing the feel of it as the hardness ground into his back. He wanted more than this, he longed for more than just the touch - he wanted . . .

Gaddes," Allen breathed softly, his eyes closed, one arm looped about his lover's waist as the other kept up a steady pace against the brunette's heavy manhood.  There was a faint moan as Gaddes moved back against his arousal, the friction sending little jolts of pleasure flickering through him.

Usually he would be taking initiative, as he was the more confident of the two of them. But the warm water of the bath made him feel lazy, and so he stayed pressed against his lover, laying there in the water with a smile on his lips and Allen's hands working. It just felt so nice, so relaxing to be there like that, being touched so intimately by the man he loved - oh, yes, he loved him. It didn't really need to be said, the idea of his love being more of an inherent, obvious thing.

After a few more precious moments like that, he breathed out  a heavy sigh, relenting what he needed to do. "We should get out soon," he whispered.

"Mm," Allen almost whined.    He did, however, pout slightly.  The water was beginning to cool, however.  He could see why... and plus, it was drawing closer to dinner.  The blonde sighed softly, resting his head against Gaddes' back.  "We should..."

But he made no move to get up.  It was comfortable here.

They indulged in a few more moments of their quiet, warm company. It wasn't as if Gaddes could help it either. But the water soon grew cold enough to be uncomfortable, and so finally resigned to stepping out of the tub. At least he was clean now, though his erection would have to calm itself before dinner or else his pants won't fit properly. Sheepishly grinning, he wrapped the extra towel about his waist.

"Ah, I hate having to get away from our pleasures sometimes. Duty stinks."

Allen stood from the water, drying himself off quietly, a faint smile on his lips as he tugged on his glasses.  "Mm... undoubtedly."  He drew his hair loosely back, then glanced over at the other.

            A hint of his younger self shimmered in the almost shy, hesitant smile he offered.  "You'll stay here tonight, won't you?"

Gaddes gave him a grin, quirking his brow and leaning toward him in a playful manner, "If you want me to." 

Allen snorted softly, thwapping him lightly on the shoulder as he started to get dressed.  "Of course I do."  Allen flashed a little grin over his shoulder at the other man, shaking his head slightly.

Gaddes chuckled, leaving him to get himself dressed in his room down the hall. Just because he spent a lot of time in Allen's room didn't necessarily mean he'd move in. They still had images to keep up, but despite that, the message was pretty clear that Allen and Gaddes were - more than really good friends. The soldiers knew how it was in the army, and so remained tactful, saying nothing on the subject.

It was then that Angelina decided to pop back into her father's room, just as she felt her Uncle Gaddes hurry passed, carrying the moistness with him in the air and the smell of her father's glycerin soap. It wasn't the first time she had smelled her uncle in the scent of flowers, so it didn't seem strange to her - it merely indicated that her father was free to be bothered again. And she did that readily.

            "Father, father!" she called, running into his room excited and colliding into the mattress of the bed - she knew it was there, it's just that sometimes she was careless to recall exactly how many steps it was away from the door. 

Allen smiled softly as he left, managing to get his pants tugged on over his softening erection just a few moments before his daughter burst into the room.  Gods... he was rather glad she couldn't see sometimes.  It'd be thoroughly embarrassing.  He started when she came in and hit the mattress, blinking a little.  Taking a quick moment to fasten his pants, the blonde padded over to her, crouching down next to her, stroking her hair.  "Princess, are you alright...?"

Shaking her dizzy head, she felt around for her father, turning and throwing her arms around his neck. He smelled strongly of flowers, like the very spring time, and his hair was still damp. Her little button nose sniffed curiously, and she smiled, burying her face into his neck.

            "Father, father!" she giggled, "I was waiting and waiting and you took so long! Are we going to play now?"

"For a little.  Then dinner, okay?"  Allen smiled softly, hugging her gently.  "Dinner isn't too far away."  A hint of Gaddes' scent clung to him, but he didn't mind in the least.  There were far worse things he could think of to smell like, after all.

The blonde stroked her hair softly, holding her close.  She was... so small.

The little princess was, of course, glad that they got to play - even for a little bit. It was mostly just her going on about what she named the little wooden horse that was earlier discovered in a far corner of her room, and what adventures he had been on - something about pirates. She was thoroughly put out when Allen finally insisted to drag her off to dinner, and she had no choice as he picked her up swiftly and carried her, balancing her with his arm under her pantalooned bottom and her silver curls pressing into his golden locks.

She sighed happily as she was carried. "Father, you're always so soft," she said, giving him kisses on his cheek, pressing her nose against the skin and rubbing it a little. "Not like the other people here. Or Uncle Gaddes. Uncle Chris and Uncle Ethan are sorta soft, but not like you, Father."

Allen laughed a little at her words, holding her close, walking with his boots thunking quietly on the wooden floor.  "Am I?  Well, it's certainly because I'm your knight and I certainly can't be dirty and rough around a princess like you.  No, no... I wouldn't dare."  The blonde man chuckled softly as he walked with her in his arms, slipping inside the mess hall.  "What makes me so soft, I wonder?"

There was a large hurrah at the front of the mess hall, closest to the door. Most of the soldiers gave great cheers of laughter. "The Princess has arrived!" announced one of them. She never remembered their names, really. But she could recognize which soldiers were the ones she spent the most time with. She giggled, her little frame shaking in her merriment, and sheepishly pressed her face against her father's.

            Gaddes quickly came over, taking Angelina from Allen's hold with a smile. "Come on, princess." Gently, he carried her over to the captains table and set her down on a small stack of books in the chair across from where Allen would sit.

Allen laughed softly.  These were good men, he'd trust his daughter with them, all of them.  They'd proven their worth, after all.  They accepted the girl so easily, they played with her, treated her like the jewel she was.  Allen walked over across from her, sliding onto the bench quietly, rolling his shoulders slightly.

Gaddes sat with the crew, as always, keeping up his socializing. Kio came out with a tray of food for his commander, like he always did - having long ago accepted playing the part of the waiter. But he didn't mind so much anymore. Angelina's little hands leaned in the table, biting her lip and bouncing in her chair.

"What's for dinner?" she asked excitedly.

Allen chuckled a little, shaking his head.  "Test it and find out, princess," he murmured softly, looking over the arrangement himself.  A bit of pork, potatoes--mashed and buttered, of course--a nice, hearty roll... a glass of wine for Allen--he wondered idly the reason.  It was really only special occasions when he drank it, but he didn't question it, really.

Without any reservation, she took her index finger and stuck it into her potatoes, pursing her lips. Was that what he meant by testing it? Gaddes groaned a little, giving Allen a look. He was soon behind the little girl, one hand at her wrist as he wiped off the finger. When he was done, he took her hand and let her touch the biscuit. 

"You have a biscuit here," he whispered to her, "Then turn the plate in a circle, and after the biscuit you have potatoes, then turn it again and you have some pork. Okay, princess?" He kissed Angelina cheek and carefully handed her the fork.

"Oh, pff, Gaddes.  I had to do it myself."  Allen waved a hand a little.  "And if she doesn't learn now, she won't later."  The blonde shook his head slightly, patting her hand gently.

Gaddes straightened, still giving Allen that look that said he was just as protective of the princess as her own father. Angelina started eating carefully, cautiously using her fork and guiding it to her mouth. He placed a hand atop her silver ringlets. "She's just a child, not a grown man. Nor was she ever sighted like her father. Have a care, Allen." His tone was - very fatherly . . . especially for Gaddes.

Allen sighed, shaking his head a little.  She'd have to learn eventually... she'd best start learning things now.  But he didn't argue it.  He just couldn't get all this right.  He wasn't stern enough, or he expected too much.  He wasn't right for this.  The blonde ate quietly, long locks slipping forward.

Gaddes went back to his seat, though he had many a word he could say to Allen at that moment. He bit back the urge to tell him that Celena understood the needs, that he should be able to understand them too. But his pride - that damnable pride Allen held made the knight feel that his daughter shouldn't be as helpless either. Why didn't he understand that a five year old blind child was not as able to do the things her father could?

"Father," whispered the little angel from across the table. For the moment, she had given up on her pork and let her fork rest upon the plate. "You're sad. Why?"

Allen blinked, lifting his head and looking over at her.  "Ah?  No, it's alright, princess."  Allen chuckled a little, "It's just too bad there isn't garlic in the potatoes, hm?  It'd make them so much better.  Go on, eat up."  Allen patted her hand softly, forcing his thoughts away, picking up the fork and eating.

"Do I have some milk?" she asked, patting the table in front of her to find her glass.

Allen reached over, settling her hand against the side of the glass lightly.  "Always, princess."  The blonde smiled softly, looking at her.

Smiling, she pulled it to her with two eager hands and sipped it carefully. They finished the rest of their supper, with only a few complaints from Angelina who insisted that she was very full and couldn't eat another bite. Her plate was still relatively full, but as always, her father gave in to her charms and let go to play among the soldiers that were left lounging in mess hall before the hearth.

            She giggled and ran into the sea of men, and all of them caught her in turn, twirling her off to the next man as her ribbons were sent dancing around her. A group toward the back eventually caught her, and she stayed there in one of the men's lap to listen to a story being told by one of them. Gaddes watched with an amused grin, as did the rest of the crew. Oruto gave a smirk.

"That kind of cute should be illegal," he said.

Allen watched, chin settled in a gloved hand.  It was adorable... and touching the way these big, burly, roughneck soldiers treated her like a jewel.  She lightened the air around here immensely.  It was... amazing, really, the way it happened.  

"It should... we don't even need soldiers here.  Just wave her around for a few moments and Basram won't bother us ever again."

"Sure enough," agreed Kio. Riden, good natured as always, smiled pleasantly at his captain.

"She looks a lot like Miss Celena!" he quipped. There was a sudden silence from the crew. One moment they had been laughing, the next was just overwhelming calm. Riden looked around, his smile fading. Sometimes he just didn't realize how tactless he really was.

Allen tensed slightly.  He'd felt his own thoughts careening towards those very notions.  The blonde bit down on the inside of his bottom lip lightly, stilling.  He really should have gotten over it by now, should have settled it away to where it didn't bother him... but he couldn't.

"Um," said Pyle quietly, leaning forward on his hay bale a little, "Boss?" 

            Meanwhile Kio hit Riden over the head, making a gentle 'biff' sound as his hand scuffed the young soldier's scalp. "Moron."

Allen closed his eyes halfway, pushing himself up from the bench.  A shaky smile was offered before he stepped over the bench, turning.  "I think I'm going to sleep," he murmured softly, "I suddenly feel a bit weary."  Obvious he just didn't want to talk about it.  He wasn't tired, no... but he wasn't going to cry in front of them and that's what he felt like doing.

            Quick strides took him out of the hall and heading towards his room, growing more and more shaken with each step.

"You're not tired," admonished a voice, not too far Allen's sensitive ear.

Allen paused, his hand on his doorknob, turning his head slightly towards where the voice came from.

And there she was.  An angel, so perfect, so beautiful, standing cheerfully beside him, smiling playfully at him like she used to.  The blonde's eyes widened slightly, looking at her.  "I... Celena...?"

Her dress was blue, but it wasn't the puff and lace frills that she wore while she still lived - this dress was long and hugged her lithe frame beautifully. It almost made her glow. Her eyes danced with sparkles, blinking slowly and demurely as she leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. "You're quick," she grinned.

Allen smiled weakly, slipping to his knees, head bowed.  "I thought you were gone from me... I thought I'd never see you again..."

She took him gently into her thin arms, not really warm but not cold either. Just there, solid and real. Her fingers found his hair, and she stroked the long tendrils, nuzzling her head into his own, to bend down and whisper to him, "I was never gone from you."

"But... five years..."  Allen shuddered a little,  resting against her.  Comfortable in her embrace, though it was somehow... different.

"Five years?" said Gaddes. He was thoroughly worried, and didn't hide it from his expression as he stared at Allen where the knight sat on the floor, hugging himself. The sergeant crouched down to look Allen in the eye, searching his gaze for any signs that he might be losing his mind. "Allen, are you alright?"

Allen started a little, looking over at Gaddes.  Tears lingered in his eyes and he smiled weakly.  "She... she never was gone, Gaddes..."

"What are you talking about?" asked the soldier evenly, placing a gentle hand on his lover's shoulder. "I was worried, you know. The way you left like that, after Riden opened his big mouth. Allen, are you sure you're okay?"

"She... she never left, Gaddes.  She's here..."  Allen still smiled, looking at the brunette.

Gaddes continued to gaze at Allen cautiously, his eyes wary and narrowing. "Allen . . ." but it would be wrong to remind him that she was gone, dead and buried. Would it. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he pulled the knight to his feet. "Come on. Let's at least get you out of the hallway."

Allen blinked a little, letting himself be led back into his room.  He glanced over the brunette's shoulder towards Celena, soft tears slipping over his cheeks.

"Now, now," said Gaddes, letting Allen sit on the bed. He cupped the other man's face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "No crying. No tears." His eyes held nothing but worry for his friend. Despite everything, he *was* still his friend. Their relationship was special, after all, and he cared so much for the man before him - it would probably have made other gay men cringe.

Allen sighed, shaking his head, letting him wipe away his tears.  Celena... was alive.  She'd come back to him.  She had finally come back to him...

"Allen?" he said. For some reason, the man hadn't responded at all with what Gaddes was saying. He was just telling him about Angelina and the dolls she had made Gaddes play with when she coaxed him to play with her earlier that day, but his brief attempt to get Allen out of the doldrums fell onto deaf ears. He grasped the knight's shoulder firmly, looking into the deep cornflower eyes, "Are you even listening to me?" He sighed, "I suppose our time together is off for tonight. You don't seem like you're much in the mood."

Allen blinked, looking up at Gaddes.  "Wh?  What?  No... Gaddes, don't go."  Allen bit down on his bottom lip lightly, slightly confused.  "I-I'm sorry... I was distracted."

"Alright," Gaddes relented, "But we should get the princess tucked into bed first. I - I'll be right back." And with great reluctance, he left Allen sitting on the large bed, alone in the room. The door shut softly, and suddenly the silence was deafening. 

A soft rustle of movement came from behind the knight, and slowly, gingerly, arms that were ever so gentle snaked around Allen's middle, a soft female face nuzzling affectionately into his neck, her nose rubbing against his earlobe.

Allen blinked a bit, lifting his head slightly.  "Celena," he breathed softly, a small smile on his lips.

Her hold on him tightened protectively, squeezing him fondly from behind. Her teeth found his ear, teasing it with her tongue before suckling it and pulling back. "I could distract you some more if you like," she whispered into his ear, her breath hot and real.

Allen was silent, that smile on his lips.  A shiver crawled up his back, his head bowed.  Yes... yes, he remembered this. 

Her hands slowly lifted, touching his neck, pulling back his hair that had gone loose. She planted tender, long lasting kisses on his neck, pulling him onto the bed with gentle encouragement. It was like there was a soft candle glow inside of her, making her a little brighter than the rest of the room, her blue dress so vivid in its powder blue hue.

"Make love to me," she said to him, her eyes lingering and of the deepest sapphires, sparkling as if the very diamonds were plucked from the sky and placed in them.

Allen lay back at her urging, looking at her with definite fondness.  "I missed you so much," he murmured softly, making sure she was pulled close, fingers trailing over her shoulders.

But she only smiled at his words, slowly leaning into him and about ready to kiss him again - when Gaddes came through the door. Upon seeing Allen's position, he grinned and shook his head, "Okay, I guess you are in the mood. But the princess asked that you tuck her in after me. I did my part." He flashed the knight a smile.

Allen blinked, turning his head towards Gaddes.  The blonde sat up, surprised... and upon realizing how he looked, blushed furiously.  "Oh, gods," he murmured.  That was embarrassing...

            The blonde stood quickly, walking quickly past Gaddes and heading towards his daughter's room.

Giggles immediately came from beneath the covers of Angelina's frilly lace bed, her head covered in rag ties for her ringlets - Gaddes clumsily helped her with those - and now she was hiding. The moment she heard her father enter, the giggles couldn't be helped. She loved being tucked in. 

Allen smiled softly, his embarrassment passing him.  Ah, yes, Angelina.  He padded softly over to her.  "Princess," he murmured softly to her, all too happy to tuck her in.  "I'm here."

"I'm not Angelina." she giggled, still hiding under the covers, "I'm Uncle Gaddes!"

"Ah...?  Now... surely, Gaddes, you've gotten a lot smaller.  And... what happened to your voice?"

"Oh!" she said, then she tried to make her sweet little voice deeper and growling, "I mean, I'm Uncle Gaddes. . ." But the giggles still escaped her.

"Oh, Gaddes... alright, then, I'll tuck you in.  Silly old man."

She lifted the covers from her in a flurry of lace, revealing her blushing face. "Just kidding! I'm Angelina!" she announced triumphantly.

"Oh my... you had me utterly fooled, princess.  You're such a sneak," he teased, tickling her a little.

She scrunched away from him, giggling some more and weakly pushing his hands away. Settling back into her feather down bed - nothing but the best for a princess - she snuggled her head into her pillow. Her giggles died down, but she still bit her pink lip, showing her adorable baby teeth. "I'm ready to be tucked in now," she declared.

Allen smiled softly, kissing her forehead.  "You're so adorable... sleep well, princess, okay?"  He brushed his fingers against her cheek softly.

"Goodnight, Father." she said sleepily, whispering, "Goodnight, mother."

Allen tensed a little, blinking.  He bit down on his bottom lip softly.  "Ah... goodnight, princess."  Allen gently kissed her forehead, standing, making sure she was tucked completely in before turning and walking out of the room quietly, shutting the door behind him.

Gaddes was already naked on the bed, lounging like he was being fed grapes by many beautiful slaves, and where he hung would have otherwise been covered with a sprig of grapes. But as it was, he only looked the part, but did such a good job of it. 

"She was me, huh?" he commented, having heard the little girl's ploy from down the hall.

Allen laughed a little, rubbing at the back of his neck.  He glided over to the other's side, slipping off his clothes smoothly.  At the sight of Gaddes as he was, desire flared within the young blonde.  Gaddes really was beautiful in his own way.  He traced his fingers against the other's cheek softly, his voice purring.  

"Why Gaddes what happened?  You've gotten so big..."

"Only where it counts," he grinned. His hand found its way behind Allen's head, roughly pulling him forward and giving the knight a deep kiss on his plump pink lips.

Allen moaned softly into the kiss, tipping his head back slightly to meet the embrace easier, head tilted just faintly to the side.  The blonde had his eyes closed behind glasses that were virtually useless in the dark, leaning into the kiss, hands bracing himself on either side of Gaddes' hips.

"I think you're wearing way too much clothes," he said, pulling away slightly so that he could help Allen out of his shirt. Playfully, he bent down and licked the erect pink nipple on his lean chest, his hand working at removing the pants. While, at the same time, another hand found its way into Allen's hair, softer and free of calluses. 

"Mm, you're always so soft," said Gaddes, successfully removing the leather pants and moving down the length of Allen's body. The hands at Allen's head were stroking his hair, caressing his earlobe, and a mouth gently nibbled the soft flesh there. 

Allen smiled softly, his head tipped to the side.  Soft... all but for the arousal settled between his legs.  The blonde did what he could to help slip out of the clothes, not caring that they were simply cast aside.  Allen slid his hands over the other's shoulders and chest, gasping just softly at the attention to a sensitive nipple.  With Gaddes, he could be as responsive and wanton as he wanted.  He had no quarrel with it and neither did Gaddes.

As Gaddes worked his way down the length of Allen's body towards the pulsing shaft, so too did another begin to pay attention to the sensitive flesh just behind Allen's ear. Gaddes was oblivious however, his mouth occupied with the velvety fuzz around the smooth member, feeling it throb beneath his lips, his wandering hands stroking the outside of Allen's thighs.

            The mouth at Allen's neck worked down with kisses along his lean chest, going to the nipple and suckling it, teasing it with a smooth tongue - the faintest hints of silver curls shining in the Mystic Moonlight.

Allen tipped his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering softly.  A moan slipped from his lips, hips shifting slightly at the attention to his flesh.  Gods... it was so good.  It always was.  His fingers met silken hair, immersing the lither digits in the mass.

Full, swollen lips that tasted of peaches and flowers met his mouth, kissing him deeply, hands working behind Allen's neck and stroking the gentle hair at the nape, soft fingers combing through it. Gaddes was at Allen's lower end, his callused fingers still working around the knight's defined thighs, his mouth gently enveloping the pulsating mass, sliding along his tongue like the smoothest cream.

Allen moaned softly into the kiss, moving his hips slightly at the attention to them and his thighs.  Pretty eyes fluttered open and while it was for the most part dark, a candle still burned.  His vision wasn't as horrible as it could have been at that moment.

Pale flesh, smooth and fair met his vision, with silver curls falling over sapphire jewels, sparkling and shining. She continued to kiss him, her lashes fluttering as her eyes closed again and deepened the passionate kiss.

Gaddes appreciated the moans, fighting the urge to grin and plunging Allen's throbbing shaft deep into his throat, moving slowly to let the warmth of his mouth radiate through, pulling back slightly to lick and tease the head before doing it all over again.

The kiss was returned of course, in kind and just as passionate.  The touches of both he loved made his lithe form shiver, this fingers curling in the soft hair, fluttering his eyes closed all over again.  "Nn... Cele'," he moaned, murmured softly... unaware of the fact that it was only Gaddes.  that it was Gaddes' touch that pleased him so.

"Mmm," said Gaddes, pulling out of his passionate thrusting so that he could speak. His eyes hungrily rolled up the length of Allen's pure and fair form, "Did you say something?" 

Allen opened his eyes halfway, sitting up slightly to look at Gaddes, pale cheeks flushed by desire, full lips swollen from passionate kisses.  After a moment, he tipped his head back against the pillows again, his eyes fluttering closed.  "So good.. both...."

It was enough for Gaddes to smile and go right back to working on bringing some life to Allen's erection, already red and swollen, his mouth like a hot blanket and his tongue playing with the sensitive head again, twirling around and flicking playfully against the smooth flesh. His hands were placed firmly on each of Allen's strong legs, sometimes rubbing and smoothing in his own passion.

            Celena continued to glow softly as if she had swallowed the very candlelight that barely lit the room, her own flesh smooth and free of scars. She kissed, her tongue plunging deeply into Allen's mouth, and her gentle fingers tracing the scar at Allen's shoulder, the sensitive vein smoothing beneath her touch.

Allen shuddered as both returned to their ministrations.  Head tipped back, kissing the figure of his sister back, shifting his hips slightly to the other man's attentions.  Soft moans continued to slip from his lips, especially as Celena's tongue pushed deep and Gaddes took yet more of the blonde's member into his mouth.  The sensations were wonderful, electrifying.  He loved them both...

Gaddes, feeling that he'd given enough attention and therefore was in a position to demand it, stopped his passion upon Allen's member, bringing himself up to Allen's mouth to kiss him. It was sudden, how quickly he replaced Celena's figure - not a split second, and she was gone, as if she was never there. Gaddes, of course, was oblivious, and kissed Allen deeply, pulling back to whisper to him, "My turn."

Allen flickered his eyes open, the light color darkened with his desire.  For a moment, confusion lingered, but the feeling of heavy lips against his washed that away and the husky murmur next to his ear was enough to sit him up.  He nudged his lover back, on his knees between the man's legs.  Leaning down, Allen tucked a long lock of hair behind his ear, hand settled at the base of Gaddes' impressive erection.  He pressed soft butterfly kisses along the length of it, every once in awhile teasingly darting his tongue out to nip at the engorged flesh.

Rendered helpless for a moment, he was left with nothing to do but moan in the intense pleasure as Allen's soft, sensual kisses glided over him. His hands embedded deep into Allen's hair, his brow furrowed as he took in the sensations, lightening running through him with every movement of the noble's tongue. From behind Allen, two soft bare arms snaked around the knight's middle, deftly stroking and catching Allen's own erection, soft naked hips of fair flesh pressing into Allen's rear, and silky breasts coming to rest upon the small of Allen's back.

Allen moaned around the flesh at his lips, closing his lips around the head and suckling, letting his tongue lead as he dipped his head, taking more of the length past his lips.  A small shiver crawled up his back and he arched slightly into the touched at his own manhood.

"Give us a rub then, love," breathed Gaddes, forcing Allen's gaze to meet his own - nudging him to come up to meet him so that they could hold him close, his own erection along side Allen's. Again, the busy hands that seemed to belong to Celena disappeared.

The blonde pushed up, scooting up next to his lover.  He purred softly, leaning close to him, nuzzling softly at the man's neck.  Again, a soft purr on his lips, his breath hot against the other man's flesh.

"Do you like his touch?" breathed Celena into Allen's ear, a finely boned hand pushing back his hair as her lips brushed against his ear lobe. Gaddes didn't hear, of course, nor was he aware that anyone else was there. His lips were parted, and a low moan emitted from his throat, shifting his hips, feeling his shaft rub against the other's, and he thrust bravely and with passion, his arms holding his lover close - nearly clutching him.

Allen braced himself on the mattress, moving against Gaddes' thrusts.  "Yes," he breathed in a moan, his eyes closed, fair cheeks flushed.  The younger man shuddered, bowing his head against his lover's shoulder.

"What?" breathed Gaddes, for he was much in the heat of his passion and wasn't really paying attention to anything Allen might have said - or anything he himself might have said, for that matter.

"Touch me," he murmured softly, huskily, to no one in particular.  Either touch was grand, setting his mind aflutter.  The lithe body trembled slightly with passions, heated flesh next to Gaddes' own.

Gaddes readily did as he was bidden, reaching down below to stroke and press him against the other, the friction heating their already heated flesh, and another moan escaped. Celena's hands were wrapped around Allen's chest, her nails embedding themselves into his flesh and she clawed down his pectorals, her teeth biting the soft flesh of his back.

Allen arched his back sharply--he'd ache for it later, likely--and he cried out softly, his voice trembling as well as his frame.  It was intense, the mix of feelings.  In the morning, he would wake to find no marks where there should had been some.  He drew closer to his release at the twin ministrations, their feelings sharply contrasting one another.

Moving faster and faster, the friction sending electric tingles of the intense pleasure - suddenly everything around them was gone, the bed, the sheets, even their bodies... all that was left was feeling as it pierced through him, wracking his body in chills and numbing his brain. Time could not pass in that place, there was no such thing. It seemed like such a long time when Gaddes cried out, his eyes open wide and searching the darkness for nothing . . . then he fell back onto the pillows, utterly spent.

Allen's mind momentarily shut down as he released, crying out with Gaddes, his thin frame trembling as it passed through him, washing over him in a heated bath of passion.  The blonde shuddered, slumping over next to Gaddes, head pillowed on the older man's shoulder.  His breath was heavy and hard for a bit, the sound softening and evening out slowly.  His eyes were half open, long hair spilling across his and Gaddes' shoulders and the sheets, as well.

Celena draped over Allen as he had draped over Gaddes, though she found herself more along the noble's side, a lazy hand stroking around the pectoral muscle of her brother's chest. Gaddes was already falling asleep, from sheer exhaustion, his own arm pulling Allen close. Celena still planted gentle love kisses all along the smooth, flushed skin. "I love you, Allen," she whispered.

Allen shuddered a little, curling up between the two of them, soaking up the warmth of Gaddes' closeness.  His eyes drifted closed, his mind sluggish.  "Love you," he murmured softly in return, a lazy, tired smile on his lips, one arm draped over Gaddes' middle.


	32. Basram and Die Katzchen

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Basram and Die Katzchen**

Angelina usually wasn't allowed outside without proper escort and guidance. Today, though, she had managed to convince her Uncle Ethan into taking her to the forests for an adventure. Being ever so carefree and wonderful as he was, Ethan, of course, took her. He was tired of the stifled life of being indoors anyway, and now that it was finally spring, well – what better time to take a stroll in the swamps?

Most of it wasn't *actually* swamp, just parts of it. Most of the areas behind the fort were relatively dry, save for the river that flowed swiftly toward the cliff over the limestone caves that house Crusade. Being a blind child, she had to have someone hold her hand in places she didn't know, lest she would fall into some peril that she could not have seen. But she was glad for the day, and she dressed in the same finery Allen had always insisted that she wore. Frills of a half-calf dress that was decorated with satin ribbons and bows, her silver hair tied up into cute little ringlets and one last bow at the top that held it all back from her face.

She smiled up at the sky, feeling flickers of light on her skin, and her baby teeth showed profusely white as she bit her full pink little lips. She tried to bounce and skip, but her uncle's hand was firmly wrapped around her own. She heaved a heavy sigh.

"Uncle Ethan!" she tugged violently on his hand, "I want to skip, please let me!"

Ethan has been reluctant to go outside with her, but after a long bout of convincing from her... that wasn't really all that long... he relented.  He'd managed to convince her to let him tell Chris and Allen first, and made sure they knew, of course, that they weren't going into the swamp.  They'd stay close to the fort.  

The young man looked at the girl, arching a brow slightly.  "I don't want anything happening to you, Angelina," he said softly, fondly.  She really was adorable... and if anything happened, well... he'd feel horrible.

"But you're with me, Uncle Ethan!" she giggled, surprisingly able to wrench her hand away from his hold. The moment she was free, she bolted, running full tilt in the direction they were headed, having no fear of bumping into anything. If when she did hit something, it was never anything hard - mostly just hers and her father's beds that she collided in. Surely there is nothing harder than that to impact her.

"Angelina!"  Ethan cursed under his breath, sighing and jogging after her.  "Come back here!"  Oh no.  She was headed for the swamp...

 The redhead quickened his pace a little, snatching her up right at the edge of it.  The swamp... really was imposing when you got so close to it.  The boy sighed, shaking his head.  "Stayl close to me, okay?  Don't run off like that, it's not safe for you."

"Why not?" she pouted petulantly, squirming mightily to get away from his hold. Her legs kicked and she pushed against his chest with all of her might. "Let me go! I wanna play!"

Ethan just tightened his hold on her, frowning.  "Angelina, stop.  It's not safe for you to go running off like that and I mean it."

"Tsk, tsk... was have we got heir?" came a rumbling voice from behind them, just within the swamp, and Ethan froze, tensing.  He had no disillusions... there were still soldiers out there somewhere... "A kitten and a child..."  The voice laughed softly and, Ethan annoyingly reminded himself, sinister.  One hand clamped down hard on the young man's shoulder and he almost whimpered.  A little ways off, he heard one of the bells in the fort.  Had they seen him...?  Did they know?  Did they see them?

A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out in front of him, a small grin on his lips.  He wore heavy armor, though nothing like what anyone within the fort wore.  He took an involuntary step back, his shoulder bumping against the man behind him.  

"Ach... stop it, Herr... you're scaring die katze."

German.  Why were they speaking German...?

These were new men, and for a brief second, Angelina gasped. She hugged Ethan close, her little arms around his neck. Although, after a few moments of silence, she realized they probably wouldn't hurt her - she was the princess after all. The look she gave, despite her empty blind eyes, was petulant and pouting. 

"I wanna be the kitten!" she argued, "I've never held one but my father says they're fuzzy and cute like me." Then there was that signature lip biting she did, her bottom lip being enveloped by tiny baby teeth.

Ethan clapped a hand over her mouth.  "Angelina... don't.  Just... don't say anything."  

One of the men leaned close to Ethan.  He would have backed up, but he had nowhere to go.  His lithe frame shuddered and he tried to shy away from both of them, but a thick arm slunk about his waist.  

"Nein... neie, katze... you're staying heir."  He laughed and Ethan tried to tug away.  Yes... those were the bells of the fort, he knew those well enough by now.  He heard someone yell off in the distance, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.  The two men conversed softly, quickly, and one grabbed the girl from Ethan, holding her close.

"Katzchen," he murmured softly, in mock fondness, stroking her hair.  

"Give her back!"

"Do you want to play, katzchen?"

"Angelina," Ethan murmured, his voice trembling.  "Angelina, don't listen to him..."

"I don't know . . ." she answered honestly, confused about what was going on. She didn't like the way she was taken from her uncle's hold, or the way Uncle Ethan was frantically telling her not to listen to them. This man that held her now, she didn't know what he looked like - was he one of father's soldiers?

Her hands flew to the man's face, feeling around briefly, the stubble scratching her hands. The bells rang in her ears, and her head moved toward the resounding tolls of heavy copper ringing. This wasn't right. These men were not good men. But she didn't know what to do - everyone treated her the same, never badly. 

"I don't want to play anymore," she said softly, trying to push away from the man, squirming like she had with her Uncle Ethan just a few moments ago.

The man tightened his grip slightly, enough to hold her.  He was stronger than Ethan.  "Nein, katzchen, you'll see how much fun it is."  The man turned his gaze to Ethan and grinned.  "You, too.  Lots of fun..."  

Ethan's eyes widened slightly and, despite himself, he whimpered softly, turning his head away.  He wasn't a soldier.  He couldn't fight.  "Chris..." he murmured softly, frightened.

Allen strode out of his chambers, frowning slightly up at the watchmen.  "What do you see!?"

"The princess, boss!  And the kid!  Ethan!  There's Basram soldiers out there, sir!"  The blonde visibly tensed at the news.  His daughter... and Ethan...

Allen turned, running to the armory.  Chris had to be there.  He threw open the doors striding sternly in, glancing around.  

Meanwhile, the men laughed, grabbing Ethan about the waist, pinning his arms to his sides, one hand clamped over his mouth tightly... and drug him into the swamp.  The man carrying Angelina followed close behind.

 "Chris!  By Jechia, you better be in here..." 

Chris stood up immediately upon hearing Allen's desperate plea, "I'm right here." He said, letting the swords he'd been polishing drop to the floor and hurrying over to him. He could tell it was urgent, important - dire. Something had just gone horribly wrong and a pit formed in Chris' stomach at the thought of it - anything - that might have happened. It never would have occurred to him that it involved their castle's beloved princess.

"What're the bells ringing for? What's going on?"

"Ethan and Angelina.  Basram soldiers were right on the edge of the swamp.  According to the watch, they were fine until she ran off and he chased after her."  Allen frowned darkly, shaking his head, grabbing the other's shoulder and leading him outside.  "Chris, look... I'm sorry about this.  I never wanted to get you or your brother involved in any of this.  After everything you've done for me, he got pulled into this stupid war."  

The blonde ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head.  "Anyway... we can't go after them right this second, no matter how much I want to.  I don't want either of them in Basram hands longer than necessary, but we just don't have the power yet.  We don't know their exact location, we don't know where they're taking Ethan and Angelina... but I don't want you to do anything drastic, okay?  Just... we'll take care of it."

"Ethan will be fine," he assured Chris, though he didn't feel that he was right.

~

Ethan was frightened horribly.  A cloth was bound over his eyes as they drug him back so he couldn't see where they'd come from, the hands that held him were anything but gentle.  He whimpered behind the hand over his mouth, his small frame shaking... and the two men just laughed, bantering between themselves.

The bitter tears that escaped from Angelina's fair little face went completely ignored by the guards. She was helpless to do anything, they held onto her so tightly that it hurt. Despite how much she struggled and tried to push away from the ugly, scratchy-faced man that held her. Her dress which was once a powdery sky blue was now sullied with dust and mud. The ribbon in her hair was falling over, but the ringlets were still silvery and prominent.

"I want my father!" she yelled into the man's chest, "Uncle Ethan, where are you?! I wanna go home!"

Ethan looked frightened over at the girl... frightened more for her than himself.  Well then...  he bit down on the flesh of the man's hand, tasting bitter dirt and the man cried out, jerking his hand away.  

"Angelina, you have to get away!" he yelled, trying to pull away from the man when he was promptly backhanded by the man who held her.  The auburn-haired boy whimpered softly, spitting out the blood that swelled at his busted lip and the man growled something at him.

"Chris," he murmured weakly, trembling, "I'm sorry..."

"Uncle Ethan!" she yelled desperately. She was so frightened - her little body shaking and she writhed mercilessly against her captor. But he would not let her go. Her choked sobs went unheeded by the soldier that held her - she couldn't see, and she didn't have any strength to escape.

 Ethan struggled, the man's hand once more clasped tightly over his mouth, as the soldier holding Angelina started walking off in a different direction once they'd reached the camp.  It wan't the main camp, just something of a scouting troop.  Scattered soldiers lay about, playing careds, joking around, drinking.  Several of them looked up as they brought in the newest catch, eyeing both captives with victorious grins.

The leader of the troop was overjoyed.  The girl had been seen with the blonde commander--whom they noted was no longer blind--often enough to figure out they were close to one another, if not the true relationship.  And the boy... well, he'd shown up when Allen had.  Bartering chips, of course, that's what they were.  That... and entertainment.  It was quickly decided that Ethan would be a big source of entertainment.  

While he was pretty in general, the piercings, the weird haircut and the other accessories made him exotic.  And what better way to anger your enemy than shame their friends?  The clothing was quickly shed, much to Ethan's horror, ropes binding his wrists at his back, then around his waist.  Terror fluttered in his chest, knotting in his belly as he was forced to kneel before the commander.

 ~

 Gaddes was just as frantic as Allen was, going to each troop and placing them in posts for a watch, while at the same time he gathered Allen's personal crew to form the party that would be searching for his surrogate daughter. While the Crusade's men prepared themselves with various weapons and gear, Gaddes finally had the gall to approach Allen on the matter.

"What should we do?" he asked, for Allen was still the commander.

 Allen frowned slightly, shaking his head.  "I'm not sure how Chris is taking this, for one.  We have to keep in mind that it's not only Angelina that they've got.  Other than that... do we know their position?  Did they take them back to the main camp or some other one that we don't know about?  We can't just go tromping about in the swamps safely... while we might know the area better, they've picked out the prime spots by now."

"Northwest of here, that place in the swamps that's actually more solid that the rest. Not far from the willow pond, actually. But they're really well guarded and way too well armed. Those cannons they have . . ." said Gaddes. Chris had just walked in, hearing the last of the conversation. His brother was in trouble. They didn't honestly think he would stay out of rescuing him, did they?

"Cannons?" he asked, his eyes widening as he stopped in mid pace. "Like - huge big fucking cannons?" Gaddes turned on him, a bit annoyed at the interruption. There wasn't much to be done about it, so he resigned to giving the man an answer. They were the same age, yet Gaddes seemed to act so much older.

"Hand cannons with long barrels. . ." began the sergeant.

"You mean rifles?" 

"...Is that what they're called?"  Allen arched a brow, looking at him.  One of the other men had sketched one out for him awhile ago and Allen shuffled through maps and papers, pulling out a crude sketch of one, holding it out to Chris.  "That's what one of them said they looked like.  Is that what you're thinking of?"  Allen perked slightly at the chance of having some kind of advantage.

The blonde looked at him expectantly, waiting.

"Y-Yeah . . . " said Chris uncertainly, not even needing to look closely at the crude sketch of the Basramian rifle. He peered at Allen closely, "You guys don't have guns?"

"Guns?" questioned Gaddes, looking to Allen for some explanation on the matter.

"No..."  Allen frowned slightly, shaking his head.  "The most advanced weaponry we have are the guymelefs."  The blonde knight set aside the sketch, tapping his chin lightly.  "You don't have any idea how we could defeat them, do you?  These rifles?"

"You can't stop bullets," began Chris, still looking uncertain and suddenly feeling the weight of responsibility press down on his chest. "But I know about gunpowder. It's easy to make. . ."

"Is that what they use, then?"  Allen cocked his head to the side slightly, looking at Chris.  That... might be their ticket.  

Chris heaved a heavy sigh and went into a brief explanation of gunpowder, how explosive it was, what caused the ball of metal to shoot out of it at high speeds - and how deadly one of those shots could be. "But we can make some and make bombs easy. Just because I have a psych degree doesn't mean I wasn't a destructive little fuck as a kid."

Allen brushed the crude language aside and just grinned, glancing over at Gaddes.  Well, Basram wouldn't expect bombs from them, he was sure of that.  "Good, good... now all we have to do are get the materials and get making them, hm?"

"Charcoal, sulfur, and salt peter," shrugged the former Terran. He only hoped they would find his brother before they started bombing the bejesus out of Basram soldiers.

"What's salt peter?" asked Gaddes, who was now thoroughly confused and hated being left in the dark. Chris turned, seeing his expression of utter flabbergast and wracked his brain trying to think of how to explain.

"Um - ammonia," he said, but still received that confused look from the sergeant.  Chris sighed, but suddenly straightened again. "Manure!"

Allen slowly arched a brow, then glanced at Gaddes, shrugging slightly.  "We can cover that well enough.  If nothing else, use the guymelefs for transport.  The Crusade'll be left below grounds unless we need to get out."

The blonde could only hope they could get to Angelina and Ethan both before anything happened to them.

So Gaddes sent Chris off with his new task - to gather the supplies with Teo and Katz, and the Terran quickly left to do what he could. Anything to save his poor brother. He couldn't stop thinking of how scared he must be, Ethan being more of a gentle sort and not really one for war or violence, despite his numerous piercings.

The moment Chris left, Allen and Gaddes stood in the commander's room. Allen was poring over schematics and strategies he'd already drawn up before his daughter was taken. But Gaddes approached him slowly, pushing the man's hair from his neck and gazing at the marks that were on his flesh. "I'd been meaning to ask - where did you get these?" he asked softly.

Ethan had gotten so many piercings... because he'd been bored.  Because he liked piercings.  But even then... he didn't like pain, he really was a gentle creature, not used to blood or hurt... as evidence by his reaction to Allen when they'd first found him on the Mystic Moon.

Allen blinked, lifting his head a little.  For a moment, he was confused, then he reached up, tracing his fingers for a moment over the soft, irritated skin.  He was silent for a moment, then he smiled over his shoulder at the other.  

"Celena, of course."  With that, he went back to studying the maps.

For the moment, he had to let it go. Gaddes had no choice but to disregard it. They needed to concentrate on finding their daughter, and as long as Allen was doing so - any delusions the commander might be experiencing could be looked over for the moment. The pain was so harsh in his heart, however. All he could do was clench his teeth and force it aside.

He swallowed, "Right. Celena." But his brow was furrowed. He knew what today was. The day was marked in everyone's hearts - the day of her death. Let him have his grief and fancies.

Allen seemed oblivious to the turmoil in the other, instead marking off places on the maps that he had gotten the soldiers to create all those years ago.  

"I wonder... just how thoroughly they've looked in the swamp.  There aren't any maps of them besides these, are there?"  The blonde tapped his chin thoughtfully, glancing over at his lover.  That bright intensity flickered in his eyes, the promise of a challenge set before him.

"Not that I know of," answered Gaddes quietly after a moment, having been distracted with his own wayward thoughts. He was about to touch the knight's arm, a friend reminder of reality, that he was still real - but his hand fell away and he quickly walked passed him. "I'll go check in the map room." he said on his way out, and left the knight to stand there, staring after him.

Allen pursed his lips slightly, not quite understanding why Gaddes was so seemingly upset.  It's not like Celena hadn't been there or anything, so he couldn't be jealous of that.  That was just ridiculous.

Allen scoffed to himself, turning back to the maps and his own musings.

~

 As it turned out, the men that had Angelina really weren't so bad, so she really didn't understand why her Uncle Ethan was so upset about it. They spoke in a funny language, but she didn't care - they still spoke some Asturian when they directed words toward her. She couldn't hear her uncle's voice anymore, so they must have taken him to another part of their house - because in her mind, they were in a place with many little fabric houses.

Though her little white dress was soiled, it still flounced around her in a flurry of ruffles and petticoats, the ribbons dancing. One of the soldiers had fixed the ribbon in her hair, straightened it so that she looked presentable again. She had smiled toward him and received a pat on her head. Now she found herself running around within a circle of soldiers, finding one before being twirled playfully and pushed off into the other direction. 

The men who played with her laughed at her antics. They'd figured out pretty quickly that this adorable little girl was blind, and so accommodated for it by keeping her protectively among a circle of them. With her arms outstretched, and giggles being emitted from her throat, she ran up to a soldier whom introduced himself to her as Hans.

"Hans, Hans, where should I go now?" she asked happily of the Basram soldier.

"I don't know, katzchen, where do you want to go?"  Ethan had stayed in the back of her mind, kept out of her reach.  He'd cried and pleaded... and they loved to see him writhe and thrash in his emotional and physical pain.  They weren't terribly kind about their 'discipline,' after all.  He'd been used and used again, tromped through the small encampment bound, sometimes his skin bare, other times, crying and stumbling--he could hear their laughter at him, could feel their dirty hands, even when they weren't touching him any longer--and with a blanket wrapped about his waist, riding low on his slim hips.

At night, he would curl up, his hands still bound at his back, and sob... wishing to be home.  Nikki's taunting had never been so bad.  He'd never hurt so much before.  But he was convinced that he wouldn't see Chris or the others again...

The commander had told him he was dirty and used, that the others wouldn't want to see him again... and left to his own misery, Ethan couldn't help but believe it.

"Hans," said the little girl, her hands reaching to find his nose. She squeezed it, testing it in case it was really button that made some funny noise like some of the other soldiers had done. "Where's my Uncle Ethan? Is he playing too?"

Hans grinned, tickling her gently as she poked at his nose, making a little squeak.  "Ja, katzchen, he's playing.  He's having lots of fun, too."  A few of the soldiers around him guffawed and laughed.  Hah, yes...

Of course, the sarcasm in his tone went unchecked - for what would a little girl know of such things. She only giggled delightedly at their laughter, glad to know that her uncle was having as much as with these men as she was - so she thought. Jumping happily, her little black shoes already soiled by mud, she grabbed one of Hans' hands and pulled him. 

"Do you have sweets? May I have some sweets?" she pleaded.

"Oh?  I'm sure we have some somewhere, eh?"  Hans laughed, calling out to one of the other soldiers--Hans was a little higher ranking than most of them.  "Berlitz!  Your Madchen sent you some chocolates!  Give them to the katzchen!"

Indeed, chocolates were brought to the little girl, their kindness seemingly genuine.

"Mmm, chocolates!" she said, popping one in her mouth after feeling around the box carefully. She chewed, swallowed and licked her sweetened plump lips. "I've never had chocolate before." Of course, she was only allowed a few pieces, because Hans warned her of a stomach ache she might get if she ate to much. Like any good little girl, she sadly relented and continued to stay in the soldier's company.

"How long have I been playing with you now, Hans?" she asked as she was picked up to sit upon the soldier's knee. She smiled in that irresistible way and felt his face. He - unlike the others - was clean shaven, able to afford a shaving kit to take with him in the armies. He smelled of soap, not of the flowers that her father smelled like, but it was still a nice smell. His face felt smooth beneath her touch and she was able to see the contours of his jaw and cheek with her fingertips.

Hans was a young man, though far more broad shouldered and strong than the little girl's father.  He smelled manlier, heavier... an altogether harder manner about him.  He was as much a soldier as Allen was a fop.

The soldier smiled seemingly kindly, ruffling her hair gently, fondly.  "For quite some time now, katzchen.  Today, it's already nearing night time.  Dinner should be ready soon, eh?"

"Will you be having dinner in my castle?" she asked curiously, leaning her head on the man's shoulder - children were so easily impressed sometimes. Her little frame was completely eclipsed by the man who held her, her body being so small and thin - her dress took up more room than she did, as her ruffles and petticoat settling about his knee where she sat. Her hand lingered on Hans' cheek, moving back and forth from the bridge of his nose to his eyebrows.

"Ach?  Nein, katzchen, but you can stay with us and eat here.  It'll be fun, I promise."  Hans rested a broad hand--strong and protective--at her back to keep her from falling off his thigh.  

She giggled, "I'm a princess, you know. My castle is . . . somewhere. It's here. But we're not in it. And my father's the knight in charge of all the soldiers, but he's really nice and doesn't speak in a mean voice to them like my uncle Gaddes." She snuggled into his shoulder. "My father is the bestest person ever. When will he be coming to get me, Hans?"

"Oh?  He's been busy and he left us to take care of you.  He told us straight out to take very good care of you and to keep you safe."  The man nodded matter-of-factly, smirking cruelly to himself.  "Of course you're a princess.  A perfect little princess who should get anything she wants."

But Angelina went a little quiet for a moment, though she had been smiling just a moment before. She knew what perfection meant, had heard about it in stories, of all the characters that her father would tell her about, the people who were perfect... she had heard men talk before, about her. She was a bright little girl, and she knew better than most what perfection was. And that she was not it.

"Wouldn't a perfect princess be like everyone else?" she asked softly, "I know I'm not. I know my eyes don't work. Because of that, I'm not really perfect, am I, Hans?"

Hans shook his head, stroking her hair.  "You are perfect.  You can live without something most of us have.  And you live well.  That means that you are like a goddess in your perfection."

"A goddess?" she asked, perking up a bit. Goddess had magic, she knew that from stories too. But the stories she'd heard were about a goddess who didn't know she had magic until she used it. Maybe that was her real purpose, her gift... and she would have to wait to get her magic, "Like Aquine? She's a goddess of the sea! She's Jechia's wife."

"Of course, katzchen, of course.  And some day, you'll have a husband and he'll be perfect with you."

"A goddess. . ." she whispered, her fingers playing with Hans' ear. She lay contentedly against him, her face buried into his neck. Her little button nose with gently pressing and rubbing against his flesh - one of her many ways of affection. She liked this man. He treated her kindly, just like father and Uncle Gaddes and the others. "Would you be my husband, Hans?" she asked softly.

Hans cocked his head to the side a little, chuckling at the question, as well as the laughter from the men around him.  "Ah?  When you're older.  Of course!  To marry a princess, a goddess.  Of course I could, katzchen."

"Good," she giggled, lifting her head and planting a tender little kiss on his clean shaven face. "Because I like you." She leaned her head into his, nuzzling him affectionately, her silver ringlets shining in the firelight. It was simply . . . too adorable.

Hans chuckled a bit, stroking her hair to subtly cover her ears as they took Ethan by, the boy broken, stumbling and sobbing again.  "I'm glad."  


	33. The Rescue

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**The Rescue**

It was already fading into nighttime, and going passed dinner as everyone was handed rations. It was dark outside, too dark to see even with torchlight. There were spring clouds overhead that threatened rain upon the marshes, and promised mud on the leather of soldier's boots. Gaddes tried to remain calm, not frantic like he would have otherwise been inclined to be. The princess was in the tender care of Basram. What would they do to such an innocent little girl. His heart broke as the vivid images of her mangled body, used and beaten, entered his mind.

He couldn't think like that. He had to concentrate. Like Allen had said, they couldn't very well just march right up to their camps and take Ethan and Angelina out of there. They had to locate the camp first. It was many hours before anything was spotted. The camp remained hidden, but one of the scouts came back with a torn piece of Angelina's ribbon. It was in the north, far from the path where she and Ethan were taken from.

As soon as the scout came back with the news, Gaddes went immediately to inform Allen of their discoveries.

Allen was just inside the fort, settled where he and Gaddes used to sit and talk all the time.  His back rested against the railing, his head slightly bowed, watching as he traced patterns in the wood.  "She's grown up wonderfully, you know," he murmured, informing a body that wasn't there.  "I never thought I'd be able to do it without you, but Gaddes and the others were there, too.  I'm glad you're back... I missed you so much."  Allen sighed softly, really rather oblivious to the fact that there really wasn't anyone there.  

Some of the soldiers glanced at Gaddes warily as they told him that Allen was acting... oddly.  They mentioned where he'd gone and left him to taking care of the commander.  If anyone knew what was going on, it was Gaddes.

"Who are you talking to?" Gaddes fairly blurted out, holding his position just at the ladder. He'd been watching the scene, his eyes pained though he suddenly felt angry - angry that he didn't understand what the hell was going on.

Allen blinked, glancing up and looking over at Gaddes.  His brow furrowed slightly, motioning across from him.  "It should be obviou--"  Allen turned his head back to where Celena had been before... and fell silent.  She wasn't there anymore.  The blonde looked faintly confused, staring searchingly in that direction, only to find no sign of her.

Gaddes shook his head slowly, his eyes slightly widened and scared for his friend - his lover. His brows were knitted in worry and confusion. "She's dead, Allen." he finally told him. He finally said it, damn it. He had to be told, sooner or later, but it should have been sooner. It should have been at the very first sign of his delusions.

Allen blinked a little, slowly looking over at his lover, confused.  "But... she was right there, Gaddes.  She was sitting right there and we were talking about Angelina..."

He approached the knight, his expression sorrowful and full of pain. Grasping him by the shoulders firmly, he leaned in close to look deeply into his partner's cornflower irises. "She's been gone for five years. You - You buried her! Right here at the fort! Don't you remember?"

Allen stared at Gaddes so close, close enough to touch, to feel.  But... his words, they hurt.  "But, she..."  Allen bit down lightly on his bottom lip, a decidedly pained look crawling onto his pale features.

Two swift slaps to Allen's face, and Gaddes expression changed to anger. "You will listen to me. Snap out of it now, or I will leave you here and find our daughter without you. Do you understand?"

Allen flinched away from Gaddes, ducking away from him.  Of course, the other had meant it for his own good, but... but even still.  He was angry.  Allen had made him angry because of something the blonde didn't understand.  Celena... she had been there just a few minutes ago.  She'd been talking to him excitedly, like usual... but Gaddes said she was dead.  

Tears built in the corners of his eyes, both from the sting of pain in his cheeks, as well as from that within his heart.  He didn't know what to do... he'd seen her...

It appeared to Gaddes that he was given his answer. Allen was not within his wits. Without so much as a word, the sergeant left him to shrinking away in the corner of the balcony, romping down the stairs and snatching up his men from the Crusade. Roughly slapping backs and yanking arms, he'd brought out the men. Kio was by his side, of course, ever loyal. Riden was behind the big man, as was traditional for them. 

Allen watched painfully as Gaddes left.  Numbly, he pulled his legs to his chest, ducking his chin against his knees.  The blonde's sobs were quiet, tears slipping over his cheeks.  She was dead, he remembered... she was dead and Gaddes... gods, he'd hurt Gaddes because he couldn't get over it.  He'd been so stupid... so obsessive...

The blonde pulled his legs tighter to his chest, ignoring the night's chill that ran through his nerves.  It hurt... it hurt so much.  Had Gaddes given up on him?  It was the only thing he could think of.  He'd lost Gaddes...

Roughly slapping backs and yanking arms, Gaddes brought out the men. Kio was by his side, of course, ever loyal. Riden was behind the big man, as was traditional for them. Oruto and Pyle came next, then Katz and Teo. Gaddes led them swiftly out of the front of the castle, shouting out orders to all of the soldiers, adjusting his gear, his sword, and taking a lantern. Allen wouldn't have been able to see in this darkness anyway, no matter how much latern light was taken with them into the swamps.

"Isn't the boss coming, Sarge?" asked Riden curiously. Gaddes gave a short grunt.

"No."

~

Angelina was sleeping along side Hans, fair sweet Hans - her Hans. She had deemed him her personal toy bear, and though she had several in her castle chambers, he was the biggest and nicest of them all. They were in his little cloth house, the floor mat wasn't the softness that she was used to. So Hans had placed her little body to lay on top of his front. There she lay, curled up and content with his warmth and the blanket over them. 

It was just for the night, she told herself. Father said he would take good care of me, and then Father will take me back to the castle and Hans will live with us. Happily asleep and enveloped in his warmth, she was oblivious to the sounds of soldiers rustling about, hissing orders to each other as they began to hear a group approach.

Hans was roused by the soldiers outside, carefully sliding the girl off of him and lying her on a bunched up pillow of his cloak.  Quietly, he crept outside, speaking softly to one of the other officers before he turned to find their commander.  He was, of course, with Ethan.  The boy was asleep in the uncomfortable position they nearly always found him in.  His hands were manacled at the wrists, suspended above him from behind.  He was bent over slightly, the pain in his shoulders from the tug at his joints and muscles nothing compared to his shame and disgust and exhaustion.  

A rough clothed blanket hung at his waist.  He'd been washed after the activities--always washed to start freshly the next day--but there were traces of bite marks on his sore shoulders, scratches and bruises littering his pale skin.  Nothing deep or scarring.  They had plans for serving him up as a slave when they returned to Basram, after all, and he couldn't have any permanent damage.

The commander was still awake, admiring the exotic boy he had taken. A leer was in his eyes, and a smirk on his lips. A very pretty slave. He had already straightened his uniform, tucking his pants into his leather boots when Hans came to alert him of the commotion.

"What is going on?" he asked of his lieutenant.

"Some of the Asturian soldiers, commander, I believe they're coming for the hostages."  Hostage.  It was hard to think of the little girl as a hostage, really.  She was so carefree and adorable.  Hans inclined his head to his superior, for a moment letting his gaze linger of Ethan.  The boy... was so strange, so unlike any other they'd found here on Gaea.

"Well we can't let them take the little brat, can we?" he stated more than asked, really. He hadn't really spent time with the girl, so he was ignorant to her charms. The boy, however, was a delectable morsel that he had enjoyed more than once during the course of his stay. "Ready the riflemen. Backwater Asturian soldiers don't have anything more than arrows and swords. I think we can pick them off easily enough, lieutenant."

Hans saluted the man, inclining his head to him.  "It might be best if you stay out of the fray, commander.  We want to keep you safe."  The soldier looked at the man calmly.  Though young, he was still a fine soldier.  It had been ground into him, his blood burned with it.

"Dismissed," said the commander swiftly, turning back to ready his own gear as Hans left. 

Angelina had been comfortable with Hans, but now that he had left her, it wasn't before long that she woken up to find him missing from beneath her. She stood carefully, tracing her hand along the canvas of the tent and feeling for the flap. She grasped it and poked her head out into the crisp night. "Hans!" she called, "Where are you?"

With a sigh and a salute, the young soldier left.  If the commander died, then he, as the highest ranking subordinate in this camp, would take over.  And he wasn't sure he was ready to.  But he didn't dare argue with the sometimes angrily violent man.  Hans paused, frowning a little and padding over to Angelina's side, resting a hand on her head.  "Hush, katzchen, why aren't you still asleep?"

The very moment he touched her head, she launched herself to him, clasping herself to his leg. "I was scared. I wasn't in my bed and you weren't there and I couldn't sleep. Oh, Hans, please don't leave me." she begged, as any sweet little girl knew how to do all too well.

"Katzchen, you need your beauty sleep so you'll be perfect in the morning.  I have to help my men, ja?  Go back to sleep, I'll come back to you."

"Could you tuck me in?" she whispered, feeling that he was crouched down and her hands led her to his face. There she gave him tender little kisses, nuzzling, and begging again, "Please?"

"Ja, I will."  Hand lifted her into his arms, sliding inside the tent and lying her down on the cloak he'd used as a pillow.  He draped a blanket over her, kissing her forehead gently.  And this time, it wasn't just a mockery of fondness.  She was adorable... and Hans couldn't think of letting anything happen to her.

"Goodnight, Hans," she whispered sleepily, her sightless eyes fluttering closed. "When we grow up, we can get married and live together in my castle . . ." she yawned, "With father and Uncle Gaddes. . ."

Hans bit back a sigh, nodding to her.  "Ja, katzchen..."  He brushed his fingers through her hair, then stood, turning and stalking out, grabbing up his rifle as he left.

~

 Gaddes led the group of them quietly, separating everyone into pairs. Chris, fearless and sometimes a little clueless, had run after them, hastily trying to catch up and insisting that he helped them. There were other soldiers that had been dispatched along with the crew, and they, too, had disappeared to enter the camp in a different place. Gaddes had grumbled to Chris about his place and how he *didn't* belong on the battle field . . . 

Until Chris held up two sacks. Each of those sacks contained smaller sacks, rolled up cautiously into tiny canvas cannon balls with wicks coming out of the end - like cherries the size of one's fist. They smelled horrible, but Chris quickly explained that that was the ammonia from manure and the sulfur. So he was paired with Gaddes, the rest dispersed among the trees.

They knew they were getting close. Voices, barking orders and the clicking of rifles being ready made that much evident to their ears. "So," said Chris nervously, "Do we have a plan?"

"We need to figure out where they're keeping them," whispered Gaddes, crouched down beside the elder brother.  Knowing Basram's habit of cruelty towards their captives, Gaddes didn't hold much hope, at least in Ethan, anyway.  What would they do to a little girl, after all?  She was just a child...

The Asturian man shifted nervously.  "You're sure those things are going to work, right?  If... you can get to a rifle, do you know how to use it?"

"It's a simple point and kill interface." said Chris sarcastically.

"If you say so," Gaddes murmured, sighing softly.  "We have to make sure not to hurt Angelina or Ethan... so we can't move out until Riden and the others let us know they've found them."

"Well, how the hell will we know?" hissed the man impatiently. It seemed like they were getting no where. They didn't know where they were, or where Ethan was being kept. They couldn't risk going any closer . . . Chris could've bashed his head into the nearest tree if his brother's life didn't depend on him so much.

"They'll signal.  We just have to wait," he murmured softly, shaking his head.  He didn't like waiting any more than Chris did.  Waiting meant those two in Basram hands that much longer.  And Gaddes... didn't want that at all.

"Hi, Sarge." said Riden from behind Gaddes, sneaking up on the man as quietly as a prowling cat.

Gaddes started, hand lingering on the hilt of his sword.  He breathed a sigh of relief, looking over his shoulders.  "...you find out where they are?"  

"Kio's working on getting Ethan now. He don't look too good, boss..." he started, giving Chris a wary glance, "The princess is in one of the tents - the larger ones. Probably commanding officer."

Gaddes pursed his lips slightly, glancing sideways at Chris.  "He'll be fine," he said, brushing aside Riden's comment.  He couldn't have Chris get distracted by it.

Chris' brow furrowed slightly, worry starting to well up inside of him. He didn't want his brother hurt, nor maimed, and that's what it was starting to sound like. But he was the one with the bombs to plant. He couldn't let his brother down, not when he was so close to rescuing him. He roughly handed one of the sacks to Riden, taking some matches from his pocket and handing them to him.

"Plant the bomb, light the wick, run like hell. Understand?" said the Terran. Riden only nodded dumbly, grasping the sack and the matches. Looking to Gaddes, Chris continued with finality in his tone, "Let's go."

Gaddes sighed softly, nodding.  "Riden... be careful.  I want all of us to go back.  All of us."  With that, Gaddes nodded to Chris, starting forward sneakily, cautiously, one hand always resting on the hilt of his sword.

Riden had already disappeared into the darkness, preparing to set bombs and lighting them. Chris stayed very close behind Gaddes. They were already encroaching upon the camp, keeping very well to the shadows. Just at the edge of it, they spotted the tent that Riden had told them of - the second largest one. It was across the way from the first line of tents, but through the flap, they could just barely make out the slumbering form of a little silver haired girl.

"There she is!" he hissed to Gaddes, pointing excitedly.

Gaddes nodded, glancing around at the groups of men standing around.  The soldiers were ready, rifles held about.  The one nearest the tent was tall and thin, but broad shouldered, white-blonde hair falling a little short of his shoulders.  He murmured orders to a few of the men in their own language, his stance cautious.

The brunette pursed his lips slightly.  "I'll have to trust Kio to get Ethan out.  We can't worry about that right now."  He rested a hand on Chris' shoulder, glancing at him and nodding.  "Luck in the shadows, Chris."

Chris nodded in agreement, scrutinizing the area once more. He narrowed his eyes, carefully taking out one of his homemade bombs. "They won't be expecting this." he said, "We need to distract that man guarding Angelina's tent."

Gaddes nodded squarely to the other, narrowing his eyes at the young soldier.  He looked younger then even them...

"We'll need to make it count."

He nodded again, pointing to his right, "I'll light it and throw it over there, away from her tent."

"Right.  Once I see them move, I'll head out and get her, alright?"  Gaddes glanced at Chris, nodding to him.  They'd get her and Ethan both.

Working quickly, the Terran lit the wick of his bomb and heaved back, sending it reeling through the air toward the most congestion of riflemen that waited to attack - so it began.

The explosion from such a small little thing was enormously deafening. It sent shrapnel, men, rifles, tents - flying through the air and promptly landing in a pile of burning embers. 

Gaddes flinched, turning his head away so the blast wouldn't ruin his night vision.  When he heard the outcry from the soldiers, he headed out, deftly sneaking towards the tent, throwing aside the flap and grabbing up the girl.  "Princess, it's Gaddes," he whispered harshly, just so she would know it was him.

 Hans was altogether startled by the explosion.  The silence was broken by the loud boom of the weapons they were rather used to... only now they were being used on them.  

 He was even more surprised at the sharp lance of pain that suddenly bloomed in his side.

 The explosion nearby had caught a few soldiers in its midst, blowing apart bodies and the rifles they held, the fire igniting the gunpowder in the rifles, blowing them apart as well.  Hans stumbled back, numbly, slipping onto his knees heavily and slowly, shocked, looked down at the bayonet blade that imbedded itself in his side, the armor pierced as if it was nothing.  The blonde man jerked slightly, coughing as blood slickened his throat.  He... was he going to die...?

Angelina was startled, and very frightened. She'd initially scrambled in absolute fright at the boom, then suddenly to have her Uncle Gaddes pick her up and hold her. She squirmed, afraid, and not able to control her shaking little body. "Uncle Gaddes! Where's Hans! Are we being attacked by pirates?! We need to save Hans!!" She fairly screamed at him.

"No!  We're saving you, princess, come on!"  Gaddes slipped quietly out, looking at the blonde man as blood soaked into his clothing.  A pity... he was so young.

 Hans looked numbly at Gaddes as he carried out the girl and the soldier's voice was hoarse, pained, but still his, nonetheless.  "Katz...chen..."  Hans coughed again, harshly, doubling over.  He slipped forward, the blade pressed upon by his weight and he jerked again as it slid deeper, tearing at the flesh more.

"No!!" She screamed, hearing her beloved's voice and leaning out from Gaddes' hold toward it, her hands outstretched, hoping to touch him. She cried fiercely, never before have so many tears escaped her. Never has her face been twisted into such fear and pain. She'd never experienced this kind of loss. Her mother died when she was but an infant. But here she could hear the words of a dying man, his choked voice. She screamed, reaching for him, "The pirates got him! The pirates got him! Hans! Hans!! Uncle Gaddes, save Hans! He's hurt! The pirates got him!!" 

"Princess, he's a bad man, leave him alone!"  Gaddes stared at the girl wildly, taken aback by the fierceness of her want to help him.  He glanced at the dying man.  He was... so young.  He couldn't be much older, if any, than Allen.

 But the girl wouldn't let him leave without getting Hans, as well.  Gaddes winced at seeing the blade so deeply imbedded in the man's flesh, but Angelina would surely give up their position when they were retreating if he didn't take him.  With a heaving sigh, Gaddes supported the man with one arm, pretty much dragging him back into the trees.

"Hans, Hans," whimpered the girl over and over, reaching and touching any part of him she could. Oh, how she cried - the tears flowing like rivers. Not her Hans, her toy... the evil pirates that got him - surely father and Uncle Gaddes will take care of them. She felt the air freshen, and she knew they were out of the camp, able to breathe among the trees and glad for it. Air always helped her when she was sick with hiccups - maybe it will help Hans. She didn't exactly know what was wrong with him, just that he was hurt. 

Hans had fallen unconscious by the time they got back into the trees and Gaddes handed Angelina over to Chris.  "She wouldn't stop screaming about him," he murmured, shaking his head.  He didn't think the kid would survive anyway, so he didn't see the real harm in it.

Chris took Angelina carefully, who was still crying hysterically and chanting the young soldier's name. She clung to her uncle as she did this. It was terribly heart wrenching to hear her strangled cries, her little face distraught and buried into his shirt. But he held her close, glad that she was safe and trusting in Kio to bring back his brother. He stood and started off toward the fort.

Gaddes moved rather quickly with Hans, not really too worried about being gentle.  He was from Basram, anyway.  He ignored the shocked looks from the soldiers in the fort as he drug the man in, taking him to the apothecary.  Gaddes shoved the door open, lying the blonde man down on the table, arching a brow.  "So... Angelina likes him.  For some reason.  Do what you can, I wouldn't worry too much about him."

Melzin looked absolutely astonished. But Asturian or Basramese - it did not matter. Melzin's only job was to heal, and that was what he immediately set to work to do. "Don't ye worry about anything, Gaddes," said the healer, quickly applying the right tinctures that helped cool the skin and staunch the blood flow, "I'll do what I need to do. You just keep your eye on the wee one."

"Well... I wasn't really worrying... but yeah."  Gaddes sighed, shaking his head, heading out and finding Chris.  "You... go find Ethan.  Some of the others said they saw Kio bring him back, but I don't know where he is."  He took Angelina from the elder brother, sighing softly.

Chris nodded dumbly, relinquishing his tight hold on the girl so that Gaddes would take her. He seemed about to say something, to ask how they thought Ethan looked, but he couldn't find his voice. He marched away from them, going down various hallways and corridors, asking solders if they'd seen the big man and his brother. He was eventually led to a room, on the first floor, the first available room with a bed in it that Kio had taken him to.

Ethan hadn't let go of Kio since he'd found him.  The lithe frame shook, trembling, Ethan just sobbing, his pale face smeared with tears.  His hair was mussed, the blanket still wrapped around his waist.  His light flesh was scratched, smudged with dirt in places.  He looked... miserable, curled up against the other man, utterly frightened.

"My god," Chris breathed, approaching his brother with swift strides and nearly pushing Kio out of the way, "What did they do to you?" he demanded, "What did they do! I swear I'll kill every last one of them."

 But Kio would not be budged, merely held the sobbing young man in his arms. It was obvious what they had done, the scratches and bit marks so clear on pallid flesh. But Chris couldn't believe it - or didn't want to. Despite his desperate pleas to let him hold his own brother, Kio still would not move. "Let me - Goddamn it! Fuck! I'm his brother! Get the fuck out of the way!"

Ethan cringed away from his brother, curling up tighter against the man.  His shoulders heaved with sobs, long hair slipping over his shoulders to hide his face, even as he buried it in the man's chest.  "D-don't..." he sobbed, his voice heavy with his misery, "don't look at me..."  He didn't want Chris of all the people to see him like that... dirty, used... oh God, he just wouldn't stand it.

Chris realized, and knew what he needed. He knew what had happened. His brother needed time. Though Chris was frantic and distraught, he had to be a good brother. If he was to think of Ethan's feelings, him being there would not have helped anything. "Okay," he said softly, the tears slowly spilling over, "I'll leave you with Kio. Ethan, I love you. You're my brother. I'll be waiting for you when you feel better. Just remember that I love you." 

 He knew it was the right thing. Ethan needed to clear his emotions, to clean himself, take a bath, before he would be ready to seek comfort in his brother's arms. So he left his brother to sob, trusting the big man whom he knew would never hurt maliciously, and went to prepare Ethan a bath.

 Ethan just clung to Kio tightly, his fingers aching with the stress.  His shoulders hurt... his body simply brimmed with pain.  He cried until he had no more tears to shed and heaved dry sobs even afterwards.  "He... I can't... he can't see me... not like this," he whimpered to Kio, as if he'd understand.  "It's... it's wrong, right?  Wrong... that... that I don't want him to know... that I... I want... I want to be pure.  For... for him.  But I'm just... I'm just so dirty..."  

 ~

 Angelina sobbed against Gaddes, but they were quickly starting to die down. Her head began to hurt her, and she started feeling dizzy. "I want father," she whimpered, "I want father. And Hans. Where's Hans? Did the pirates kill him?"

Gaddes sighed softly, holding onto her as he climbed the ladder to where he knew Allen still rested.  He wasn't sure it was alright to leave the girl with the blonde right now, not sure just how much he'd gotten over.  But nonetheless, he treaded softly over to the sullen blonde, crouching down and setting the girl's hand on Allen's narrow shoulder.

She sniffed, feeling the fabric of her father's shirt, her hands reaching to feel for his hair. "Father!" she cried, squirming out of Gaddes' hold and hugging her father around his neck. "Father, father - there were pirates. Pirates killed my Hans. Oh, father, I loved Hans. He got hurt. I was so scared! The noises were so loud. But the men you told to take care of me were nice - but now they died from the pirates!"

Allen slid his arms numbly around his daughter, blinking.  "I... Princess, who are you talking about?"  Allen looked at Gaddes, confused, brow furrowed.  Who was this Hans...?  They didn't have a soldier by that name...

Gaddes inwardly groaned as he began to explain who exactly Hans was, "Basram lieutenant we took with us after getting severely stabbed in the side, explosions sent everything flying through the air. It was unbelievable. . . She wouldn't stop crying about the lieutenant. I had no choice but to bring him with us.

Angelina just kept crying into her father's shoulder, holding him tightly and hoping he never let go. The noises - they were so loud, they were still ringing in her ears. "Is Hans still alive?" she asked weakly in between sniffles. Gaddes crouched down, touching her head softly.

"Melzin's taking care of him, princess." was all he could bring himself to say. Angelina at once became very glad, snuggling again into her father.

Allen sighed softly, tipping his head back against the railing.  "We have a lieutenant in out midst..."  The blonde pursed his lips slightly, his eyes half-closed, his arms still around his daughter.  "And... Ethan?  Do you know anything of him?"

Gaddes shook his head sorrowfully. "They apparently treated him - the only way an army of lonely, deranged murderers could." It was really all he could say. He knew what happened when you're taken captive, and Basram being so aggressive, well - what point was there in second guessing?

Allen sighed heavily, closing his eyes the rest of the way.  "I never wanted them to get involved, Gaddes... they.... they've done so much, and now this..."

"We all go through it," said the sergeant quietly, taking a quiet place next to Allen, "Even if they don't deserve it. I can at least say that I understand what it feels like - and you can. We just . . . look, all we can do is help him pull through this. Not feel guilty about the fact that it happened."

Allen sighed softly, nodding a little, resting his head against the other's shoulder lightly.  "Gaddes," he breathed softly, "I'm... I'm sorry.  About earlier..."

Gaddes sighed, leaning his head on Allen's, "It's okay," he whispered, sensing that the princess had sobbed herself to sleep against her father's chest. "I - just hope that you've come to terms . . . with her being gone."

"I... I surely hope so.  I didn't... even really realize I was doing it and I hurt you for it."

"You scared the hell out of me, is more like it," said the sergeant honestly. "But hopefully it passed. I . . . I know that today was the day that she . . . and that you brought Angelina."

Allen nodded a little, sighing.  "But... it's still no excuse.  I can't keep focusing on my past like that, not when I have this life here.  She wouldn't want me to live like that, right?"

"No, she wouldn't. Celena loved you, Allen. Despite all the taboo of society, you were her brother - you were dearest to her heart and, my gods, did she love you so purely. Nothing could have soiled her love for you, nothing - not even all those things you went through, after you lost your sight. If there's one thing I knew quite well, it was that she *always* made you first to her feelings and affections."

Allen sighed softly, a small smile on his lips.  "Then... then I'll move on.  I won't let her ghost keep me back anymore.  I promise."  Allen kept one arm about his daughter, the other sliding around Gaddes' waist.

As much as he loved the tender moment, wanting and wishing it could last . . . he stayed there for a few moment, loving the feel of his lover - essentially his husband - and relished his warmth and affections. But it could not last. "Allen," he said softly, his voice grave, "Basram is on the move. We attacked their camp. They'll be retaliating any hour, the moment they get reinforcements."

The blonde nodded a bit, frowning slightly.  "I know... and we need to be ready."  Allen pursed his lips a little, looking over at Gaddes.  But what chance did they stand, really, against Basram? 


	34. Second Fall of Fort Castelo

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Second Fall of ****Fort****Castelo******

Like they had done so many years before, the sick and wounded were moved to the underground level of the fort. Many still writhed on the floors of the apothecary and many more were being carried in, severely maimed, mutilated, or dying to beyond the call of aid. Basram had attacked with such swiftness - especially after learning that Asturia now had their secret of gunpowder.

Parts of the fort had already collapsed, the only safety being in that the hangar was still left unblocked and in direct access of the wounded in the apothecary. The underground level, was of course, the safest place to harbor the Schezar child - the only place, really. The moment Basram struck with their cannons, Allen had rushed to get his daughter out of the barracks. He stole her from her bed and flew downstairs to place her in Melzin's safe keeping. But she wouldn't let go.

Allen insisted, looking over at Melzin imploringly.  He had to go, he had to fight.  "Princess, I have to go out there!  They need me!  Melzin will take good care of you, just... just like he is Hans."  He didn't know about the soldier's state, but he didn't care at the moment.  He couldn't leave his soldiers alone up there.  He had to be there.  

The Basram soldier jerked awake.  The cannon fire, he knew it so well.  The pull in his side made him groan weakly, his eyes barely open.  But... this wasn't his encampment.  This wasn't anything familiar...

"No, no!" she said loudly, clinging to his neck, locking her arms around him. "No, the pirates'll get you! They'll get like Hans! And then you'll go away like Mother! Please don't leave me, father!!" Melzin could only give the distraught father a look of sympathy. He had a duty to uphold, true enough. But he risks his life for his daughter, and she's already without one parent. But the healer said nothing.

Gently, he nudged the little girl away from her father, and she immediately started asking for Basram soldier. It was Melzin's turn to look imploringly toward her father.

Allen sighed softly, looking over at Hans.  That man wouldn't be doing anyone any harm at the moment.  Allen nodded to Melzin, his approval.  He trusted the healer...

"Ah... I'll have Ethan brought to you later.  He... well, he might be in need of some of you attentions.  He was taken by Basram when she was."  Allen pursed his lips, as if to consider saying more, but he didn't.  He was sure Melzin could figure it out from there.  "I'll come back, Princess, I promise," he murmured softly, turning and stalking calmly out/

"Hans, Hans," she cried into the healer's shoulder, "Where is Hans?" And Melzin brought her over to the Basram soldier, trusting his instincts and gently laying her next to him on the table. She was so little that she fit perfectly right along side the fair haired soldier. He made sure to put her on the uninjured side, and the moment her hands met his skin, she felt along his chest and up to his face - she gave him kisses like she had before, recalling once a story about a prince who needed a princess' kiss to wake him from eternal slumber.

"Hans," she whispered, her voice so small and innocent, "Hans."

The young soldier's eyes flickered open slightly, faintly responsive.  He was a little paler than he should have been, but that was to be expected.  At least the flow of blood had stopped.  "K-katzchen," he murmured softly, the accent thicker with his weakness.  He didn't move to stroke her hair, but now... now he knew where he was... and just why he could hear the roar of the cannons.

"You *are* a prince," she declared brokenly through her tears, letting her nose come to rest at the soldier's cheek and rubbing fondly against his pale skin. She sniffed and finally managed to say, "We're being attacked by pirates. The pirates got you, but you're okay now."

Pirates... what pirates?  They were the men who had saved her, her father's men... but he didn't say anything about it.  Let her thoughts of it be disillusioned, let her believe her father never hurt anyone.  She would be better off that way.  She was lucky that she couldn't see...

~

 The battle was horridly underestimated. Where the fort only had guymelefs and now hand made bombs to throw at the masses of Basram soldiers, Basram had brought in several small airships - each of them holding explosives that could have easily leveled the whole swamp. But Asturia hadn't seen their destruction yet. The cannon fire was immense this time. And entire line of guns that took out most of the eastern wall with one round. 

The next round took out the barracks. And on top of everything, hordes of footsoldiers with rifles and five steady guymelefs bearing the Basramese seal were keeping the Asturian forces at bay. It was intensely unfair, and it wasn't before long that the western wing of the fort had collapsed as well under the heavy fire of cannons.

Fear rose.  Allen, even in Scherezade, couldn't keep them at bay for much longer.  Likely the other forts along the border were being attacked, no aid would come from them.  They didn't ahve enough power, enough skill...The blonde knight gritted his teeth tightly.  They had to find some weakness.  They had to have some kind of advantage over them somehow.  But what, Allen had no idea.  And if they didn't figure it out soon, Asturia would likely be crushed.

While Allen was in Scherezade, Gaddes was leading troops on foot. But they didn't stand a chance. He had seen how quickly the first wave of his men were shot down, and hastily tried to make them seek cover behind barricades. Katz and Teo had been there, and both were mortally shot with the lead bullets from Basram rifles. Gaddes dragged them along the crowd in their retreat, but it had already been too late.

A shout came from the footsoldier's with rifles, just as Gaddes was running for cover. He was hit. The cold earth was hard when he fell to it, his back pierced by at least three bullets.

Allen didn't have time to worry, he couldn't.  Locked in a battle with the enemy's guymelefs, he could do nothing but fend off their attacks.  "We're going to lose," he murmured softly to himself, gritting his teeth.  How could they possibly win?  How could they possibly, ever beat such heavy forces?

"Damn it," he growled, taking down one ot the melefs, turning to the next.  Already he was growing weary.  He couldn't keep it up much longer at all.  Not at all...

Gaddes was dragged by his comrades, much in the way he had dragged the late Teo only to die behind makeshift shields. It was Kio who grabbing him. Gaddes, on his stomach and bleeding from his wounds, could hardly speak, but choked out orders to his crew, "Send Riden . . . Crusade . . . Signal to Allen. Do it!" 

Riden had heard, so Kio did not need to relay the message. Being the fastest, most agile of all of them, Riden ran full tilt to the underground cave that held their escape. Kio ordered Pyle to gather the injured from the apothecary and start moving them to the airship. Meanwhile, Oruto cheekily chucked a knife to Scherezade, implanting it just low enough so that he could get his commander's attention. He would be able to see well enough his own soldiers retreated toward the back of the fort.

Allen turned his gaze shortly enough to catch the sight of the others leaving and he made note to fall back as soon as he could.  They'd go on ahead, he'd go after them.  Three on one... he didn't like the odds at all.

Later, when he dust would settle for the moment and fighting would stop, the lieutenant would not be among the counted Basram dead, the news relayed to his father, the general.

And all along, the Asturians were oblivious to just who they had in their grasp.  But for now, Allen had his work cut out for him, his focus remaining on the melefs he fought now.  He would prove a distraction long enough for them to get away all over again.  It was a replay of before... only this time, they didn't have Escaflowne to save them.

Allen didn't notice the bruises and scrapes from being jolted about within the melef, smacking his head back against the metal again.  Though it was far less severe this time, it made him dizzy for a moment.  He moved just barely in time to avoid getting impaled.  He had to stall them longer, he had to make sure everyone got out.

~

 Pyle was dashing about madly. Two of his comrades were dead, many more were wounded, and he needed to move these poor soldiers down below, passed the hangars and into the caves. The soldier's who could still walk helped those that couldn't. And he had to help many of them to their feet. "Quick! Go to the caves," he kept shouting at him. 

Melzin was hastily filling a bag full of medicines, herbs, and tinctures so he could treat the wounded on the ship. Pyle finally came to Angelina and Hans. The little girl was frantic, but she refused to let go of her prince, despite how she was nearly pried from him. "Hey, Basram! You need to stand up." Yelled Pyle, rather unkindly, to the soldier, "We're evacuating."

Hans was awake enough to just barely register the words.  Evacuating.  Another hard shake of the ground nearly knocked him off the table and he groaned, lightly colored hair spilling against it.  With effort, the man pushed himself weakly up.  "Katzchen," he murmured softly, fondly to the girl, "you have to go..."

Angelina argued loudly, still clinging to another object of her affections - her father gone, and now she must leave Hans too, "No! No, you're coming with me!" she said, hugging his neck fiercely. Pyle pried her off and she was set off screaming and kicking, blindly reaching out as she was pulled away from her love.

 Melzin felt horribly heart broken, looking at the man on the table, and the girl he stared after as she was ungracefully carried by her middle and out the door. The old healer went to soldier - they were last ones left. His pack was secure on his back, full of tonics and elixers to heal the wounded and ease their pain. He sidled up next to Hans, and took his arm without so much as a warning, forcing him to stumble along toward the hangar.

 "I won't have you die," he said, "It's not my job."

"I am... Basram," he murmured weakly, looking at him, "why...?"  He couldn't understand why he'd help him.  They were the ones that started this whole mess, they were the ones that snatched the girl, they were the ones that attacked.  And yet... he had been brought back here and cared for... and this man was refusing to leave him behind.

 Hans looked terribly lost and confused.  His father would have never had such a heart.

"No talking now." said the healer, forcing him alongside of him as they made their way passed the hangar and into the must caves. The air quickly became thick with moisture. Underground rivers, and the currents above the surface that leaked through the ground at the same time. The waterfall at the end of the tunnel could be heard, dripping prominent from the cave ceilings. Angelina's desperate cries were still echoing among the limestone.

 It seemed a difficult task to reach the docked airship, floating steadily in the chasm. They boarded, and the Basram soldier was quickly put to rest with the rest of the wounded. 

Hans felt sorely out of place here, among Asturian soldiers.  And he knew they disliked him being there, but he hadn't had the strength to argue with the healer... nor the drive to.

~

It seemed like forever before the heavy weight of Scherezade fell onto the back of the Crusade, and even longer before the blonde slipped inside.  Three were missing.  And one of them...

"Gaddes," Allen whimpered softly, fright fluttering in his chest as he turned, his fast strides taking him to the healer's.  The door was shoved open and Allen quickly located Melzin, resting a hand on his shoulder.  "Where is he...?"  If he wasn't there, then... Allen pushed the rest of that thought aside.  He couldn't think like that, not at all.

Melzin solemnly motioned over to Gaddes. The solder was already treated, laid on his side, the bullets painfully removed from his back and one from his spine. But the good news was he wasn't bleeding anymore. He simply lay there, hardly able to breathe but strength enough to open his eyes and see Allen.

"Allen . . ." he cried weakly, trying to get up to meet his lover - but his body was simply too tired to response. Only his arm moved, reaching to him.

Allen padded over to him, worried, grasping his hand.  "Don't be stubborn, idiot," he admonished fondly, looking at him.  "Just... let me take care of you for once.  It's... always the other way around."  Allen felt his heart wrench, reaching up with one shaking head to wipe away his tears.  He didn't care that others were in the room.  Just...

"I... was afraid you were still out there when I didn't see you on the bridge..."

Weakly, he just shook his head, already sensing something wrong with his body, but spoke nothing of it. "Nah . . ." he coughed, "I'm fine, see? The boys brought me . . . Katz and Teo didn't make it." He looked sorrowful for a moment, resting his head on his arm. "But I'm still alive and kicking."

Allen put his arms around his lover, bowing his head against the man's shoulder.  "You'll be okay... I love you," he whispered softly, kissing his temple in a tender movement.  If Gaddes had fallen, he wouldn't have known what he'd have done.  He couldn't have made it through losing Gaddes and Celena both, not so close... not ever.

He closed his eyes to the kiss, not even having the strength to throw caution to the wind - it was already gone and he didn't care who saw. He loved him, that's all that mattered. They loved each other and there wasn't anything anyone could do a damn thing about it. "I love you too," he whispered fondly, only for Allen's ears. 

The agony suddenly gripped him, and he let out a clenched cry of pain from his constricted throat, cursing loudly. His hand was tightened around Allen's, and the knight's presence made it bearable enough to deal with for now. He thanked him silently for that.

Allen almost whimpered, putting his arms protectively around Gaddes, holding him as if he could protect him from the pain.  He wanted to... he wanted to ease his pain as he had done for him so many times before.  "It's okay, Gaddes, it's okay... I'm here... I promise, I'll be here.  Always.  When you need me, I'll always be here for you..."

"I believe you," he swallowed, managing to quirk a grin even through his pain. "I know . . . Allen, go find Angelina. I've been worried about her since the cannons hit the fort. I know she was safe, but . . . please go make sure for me. For us?" he pleaded.

Allen seemed afraid to let Gaddes go for a moment.  He sighed, brushing his lips against the other's, then stood, fingering some of the dark hair for a moment before he looked around for Hans.  And just as he suspected, there she was, curled up close to the soldier who had, once more, fallen unconscious.

Riden ran in, having been the last one to receive the news of his commander coming back. The little soldier was Allen's elder by a year or two, but that didn't stop him from giving him an intense hug about the waist. "Boss! I'm so glad you made it!" He would have bounced Allen on his feet had the younger man not been so much taller than he was.

Allen blinked a bit, then smiled, returning the hug fondly.  "I'm glad to see you're alright, Riden... I was worried about all of you, I wasn't sure if I could buy enough time."  The blonde looked at the older man fondly, reaching up to wipe at his tears with the back of his hand.  He'd been thinking about Gaddes, about the fear he'd felt.. but he'd be fine.  Gaddes always came out fine.

~

 The Crusade was not a large ship, but it was definitely not the smallest among the Asturian populace, or its army. It's just that most of Asturia's ships were merchant vessels, the very country being a pacifistic trade country, thriving on its ports and merchant economy. Not really known for technology. 

The ship glided along a ravine that was many miles from the waterfall and the Fort Castelo they had called home for so long. It would take Basram to spare one of their smaller bomb holding skiffs to follow them - but they didn't. For now, they were safe, but their home was destroyed, for all anyone knew. And what few soldiers survived were quickly fading.

Angelina never left Hans side, and no one could possibly understand her attachment to the soldier. They could only think it was part of the common syndrome of kidnappee falling in love with their kidnapper. But she slept peacefully as long as her silver head lay upon the crook of the young man's arm. Gaddes was not so lucky in slumber. The pain in his back and the strangeness of the numbness below his belt was almost overwhelming. He had been moved to Allen's quarters, to lay upon the bed there.

Allen had, when he'd finally gotten to sleep, lay down beside Gaddes, a careful arm around him.  He was always at Gaddes' side when he could manage it.  He didn't want Gaddes any more uncomfortable than he could help.  He was curled up, his head resting against his shoulder, but not on it, careful not to put pressure on the man's injuries, or his injured back.

Hans slept, for the most part, easily, though it wasn't of his own choosing.  Constantly enough he'd wake, his disorientation clear in the way he looked about.  And then again after a few moments, he'd slip back into unconsciousness.  But he would live.

Ethan had finally been convinced by Kio--whom he'd been frightful to let go when the battle had started and had clung back to him when he came to retrieve him--to at least see his brother.  It was late when he shuffled numbly into the room his brother was staying.  He still hadn't gone to see Melzin, though he knew he probably should have.  He stared, shaking, at his slumbering brother for a long moment before he walked over to the bed, the pants and shirt one of Allen's,  Up close, he looked at his brother again, feeling that sharp twang of unworthiness.  He had been spoiled, dirty... he didn't deserve to see Chris like this, to do as Kio had instructed him to do and spend time with his brother.

Still shaking, frightened, Ethan slipped under the covers behind Chris, curling up on his side and burying his head in the other man's shoulder.  Chris was warm, familiar, the scent that clung to him, Ethan knew, had known, since he was a child.

Chris had not entirely  been asleep. He'd heard the door open, knew who it was, and kept his eyes closed. That familiar warmth coming so close to him, all Chris could do was snake his arm around his brother's waist, tenderly and protectively, and hold him close. He was his little brother, and he loved him so no matter what sort of bickering and arguing would take place between them.

Ethan quivered slightly, especially at his brother's touch, but he steeled himself and didn't pull away.  Instead, he ducked his head against his brother's embrace, his eyes closing, though he was too scared to go to sleep.  The soreness in his body had not yet eased, especially since he hadn't seen the healer. but he paid little mind to it.  Ethan recalled that his brother had said he'd loved him... and he felt like laughing.  He loved Chris so much... but he couldn't possibly know or accept just how much.  It was wrong...

Allen and Celena had reasons... but Ethan had lived with his siblings his entire life.  He knew them as his siblings.  

At the same time, Gaddes had moments when he would writhe in the pain from his back. He knew it had shattered, could feel it. Melzin had done all he could to patch him together, but it wasn't much use. All he had left to do was heal, and endure the pain that wracked his spine. He would sweat, forcing his head back onto the pillow, eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched. His muscles burned and tightened, and his fists would ball up. He breathed heavy breaths through his nose, gulping as he tried to moisten his mouth. A growl was emitted from his throat. Gods, the pain. . . he never would have imagined such pain in his life.

Allen bit down on his bottom lip when he was awakened by his lover's pain.  Almost empathetic, really.  He'd nestle close to him, stroking his hair gently, hurt that he could do nothing to ease the pain for him.  He felt helpless... and he was sure Gaddes had felt the same on several accounts with him.  "You'll be okay," he whispered softly, staying strong for Gaddes.  Idly, he stroked the older man's stubbly cheek, speaking of pleasant things to try and distract him.

"You know . . ." said the sergeant brokenly, choked by his own agony for a moment before it finally eased a bit and he was able to relax. He panted, gulping again, "I - I always liked your house back in Palas."

"We'll go there.  You and I and Angelina, we'll go there and have our family.  I love you, I'll be with you always."  Allen brushed his lips against his lover's cheek, looking sorrowfully at him.  "You don't deserve this pain, but I'll help you through it just like you've always helped me."

"I know you will." he said, his tone heavy with sorrow. Something was wrong. He would have gladly spent the rest of his natural life with the young man, his golden knight - but how happy will they be now? It made him wonder just how badly things would be from then on, but he couldn't say anything on it. He only leaned into Allen's kisses, knowing he was loved - there was no one else he could possibly want to spend the rest of his life with. "Gods, how did I ever fall in love with a fop like you?" grinned the sergeant, a weak smirk on his lips.

Allen smiled softly at him, idly running his fingers through the man's hair with gentle motions.  He'd pushed his gloves aside for now, and the silken feel of his dark tresses was nice to feel.  "I wouldn't know.  But I have to ask myself the same question.  And how did I let myself fall in love with a ruffian like you hm?"  Again, he brushed a tender kiss against Gaddes' cheek, looking at him.

Another wave of pain hit him, and once more his face contorted in that frightening look of agony, the cry from his throat desperately quelled to no avail. Gods, how was he going to get through this. Every few seconds, it almost became too much to bear.

Allen's heart wrench, his stomach twisting every time his friend and lover felt the pain.  The blonde looked at him worriedly, stroking his hair gently.  "My poor Gaddes," he whispered softly, resting his forehead against the man's shoulder.  "My poor, sweet Gaddes..."

Gaddes coughed, wincing with every painful spasm that constricted his lungs. But again, after very long, agonizing moments, it passed. His skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, but even through all his pain, he managed to reach across his chest to touch Allen's golden hair. "Don't - don't you worry about me. I'll be just fine." 

Allen, brushed his fingers through the other's hair, shaking his head slightly.  "Let me worry over you... I'll do it anyway."  Allen smiled softly, almost sadly.  It hurt to see Gaddes in such a state and, obviously, worried him as well.

Weakly, the sergeant nodded, trying to sleep but he knew it would not come. So he settled back as much as his aching body would allow the comfort, content in Allen's presence and worry. He was so good to him, thought Gaddes. He only wished that he could be that good to Allen in return. So his arm managed to come around Allen's narrow waist, and loosely held him there.

 Allen would have immediately said that Gaddes had done far more for him than he could ever repay, but he didn't know the older man's thoughts.  With a soft sigh, his head resting lightly against Gaddes' shoulder, he smiled at his closeness and let himself relax.

 ~

 The Asturian frigate Crusade was floating down low to the ravine, where the river rushed just underneath and where they were able to draw the water when they needed it. It had been a few days now since the Fort was destroyed, and the soldiers from the monstrous battle were still recovering. Sadly, however, several died. Only a few remained, and of those, many were maimed or disfigured. One soldier had his arm torn clean off by a cannon ball. Others were shot by the rifles, in their legs and bodies - and couldn't understand why some extremities didn't work as well as they did before. Nightmarish didn't even begin to describe what the slaughter at Fort Castelo had caused.

Angelina had hardly moved from Hans' side - except those times when she got really hungry or had to go to the chamber pot. Her father was mostly occupied with taking care of Uncle Gaddes, and so she was mostly left in Melzin's charge. Hans was finally able to wake up a little more, and she was glad for it. She had managed to steal some dried steak strips, sweetly seasoned, from the supplies after much cajoling with Riden. Now she squatted in front of Hans and held it up to his nose.

"I got you some food." she said.

Hans still slipped in and out of unconsciousness, but he could focus a little more, actually hold some small bit of conversation.  He hadn't seen the blonde commander everyone spoke of, the man Angelina spoke of so fondly.  But he hadn't tossed him out of the ship, so he figured the man had some heart somewhere within him.  

At the scent of the meat, he jerked a little, flickering his eyes halfway open.  Bloodied, dirtied hands had been washed, along with the rest of his body, by Melzin a bit ago, when he'd had the time to be able to check the extensive wound.  He would forever have a scar there, at the least.  The blonde man weakly took the dried meat into his hands, chewing quietly at the tough strips.  He didn't speak much, especially after noticing the distinctly angry glares he got from those soldiers awakened around him.

The little girl hugged him then, as he chewed. She had her toy bear back, so she would take very good care of him. Like a pet - only much bigger and warmer. She liked him. 

"Are you still sick, Hans?" she asked of the soldier.

Hans coughed a little, as if on cue, biting back a groan as it tugged at his wound.  "Ja, katzchen," he murmured softly, "but you shouldn't worry over me."  His words were still clipped with that thick accent, sometimes struggling over the Asturian wording.

"Io ti voglio bene," Angelina said to him, scooting up, her hands finding his face and she kissed his cheek fondly. "You need to get better so that we can play again."

"Ach, katzchen, as you say."  He nodded faintly.  He was still overly surprised he wasn't dead.  For one because of the injury... and now because he was in the middle of a group of rather... angry Asturian soldiers.

Hans was not very hardened from his life as a soldier.  He'd been one for at least 3 years and he had seen skirmishes and fought, killed men.  He'd sustained injuries, but nothing like this one.  Nothing that hurt, that burned so much.

"Why is she so fond of a monster like you," growled one soldier, the one with the missing arm. His whole upper body was exposed save for the enormous amounts of bandages that covered his front and all of his left side where, clearly, an arm should have lain. His head was bandaged as well, and they all looked freshly dressed.

Hans turned his gaze to look at him.  He had known what their weaponry would do... but to see it so close, first hand, without adrenaline pumping.  He felt his stomach lurch and he glanced away, biting down on his bottom lip gently.  He didn't answer... what could he say?  It wouldn't matter in the end.

The soldier was angry, that much was certain - but even he, with all his pain and anger, would not strike out at the Basramese man with their princess present. She was that precious to them, and just seeing her alive and well - though doting on man worthy of a criminal - was enough for them. Just her being there made them happy enough to continue on. 

"She is our princess," said the one-armed soldier bitterly, "I wonder if a heartless bastard like you would even know what an honor and privilege it is that she cares for you."

"Die Katzchen ist kein princess," he murmured softly, tipping his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes again.  "aber... ein goddess."  It was she, really, who had saved him.  It was her who insisted on his being brought back.

It was all her.  And even if he faced charges here in Asturia for being who he was--of which no one actually knew--he wouldn't question them.


	35. The General's Son

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**The General's Son**

Melzin worked tirelessly throughout those two days of hiding in the ravine. Basram armies were everywhere, apparently, and they couldn't risk getting shot down before they were able to reach the capital. The healer had only one job, and that's what he fussed over. Bringing with him a covered bowl of a poultice and new linen, he cleaned Gaddes' wounds again for the day before they soaked through the bandages. 

He was awfully wary of the man's back, and they turned him over carefully once he'd finished the dressings. But being a clever healer, he prepared for the worst as well. Quietly, to took a pin from his lapel. Gaddes watched him. The covers from the sergeant's feet were pulled aside. Not a word was said, and it was odd, thought Gaddes, when Melzin fairly stabbed his big toe - and he felt nothing of it.

"Anything?" asked the healer, removing the pin and going to the next toe. Again, the prick looked painful. Gaddes took a deep breath and pursed his lips.

Allen watched warily, a brow arched.  He didn't think that not having a reaction to such a thing was a good thing.  In fact, he knew it wasn't.  It made panic flare within him, but he stayed silently by Gaddes' side.  No matter what happened, he'd be beside Gaddes, just as the other had been for him.

The healer looked grim. This sort of thing was not easily treated, and it was not easy to live with in their times. Bedridden at worst. His expression was a pronounced frown, but he covered Gaddes' feet nonetheless, coming to the man's bedside and checking for a fever. Thankfully, there wasn't one. "I'll ask ye to hold still." he said to him quietly, pushing back the covers on the man's front.

The pin was lightly pressed on Gaddes' chest, right in the middle. The sergeant started a bit at the prick, groaning a little but said nothing. This continued until the pin reached at about the man's belly button - a few inches above it. Melzin looked at Gaddes, but the sergeant shook his head.

"Tell me honestly," croaked the sergeant, "What'll happen - I mean, . . . " Ah, but even the sergeant began to get choked up. He was confused, and afraid. This sort of thing doesn't happen, just can't happen to him. "Shit. . . I'm *not* spending the rest of my life in a bed." he finally managed through his clenched jaw.

Melzin just continued to look displeased, "It's so difficult to say, lad. But I've seen cases like this - horse riding accidents, broken backs - it's not impossible that you could still walk out of this very ship. But it takes time. You have a friend -," he looked at Allen, who seemed to be getting horribly distraught, "whom I know will take good care of you. Just give it time, lad."

Allen bit down lightly on his bottom lip, curling his fingers in Gaddes' own.  He was strong, Gaddes was... he'd get through it.  He had to.  Just the mere thought of Gaddes being unable to perform simple tasks hurt, burned.  And so soon after they'd found so much comfort in one another, too.  Allen stayed silent, if only to keep the tremble that would surely be in his voice from being known.

Gaddes could say nothing to the healer, couldn't even look at Allen, really. Melzin left them to their silence. The sergeant was already embarrassed - this sort of thing *doesn't* happen. How could it happen? Stray lead embedding into flesh rendering him so helpless, so vulnerable. He wrenched his hand free of his lover, trying to turn over on his side - his legs wouldn't respond, and so lay there flat while he buried his face in the pillow.

Allen looked at his lover, hurt.  But he understood why he pulled away.  He understood why Gaddes didn't want to be touched... but it hurt nonetheless.  Was... this how Gaddes felt when Allen had drawn away from everyone?  Was this the fright, the pain he had felt?  If it was... he was even more sorry for causing it than he had been before.  Allen sighed softly, bowing his head... but didn't leave his side.

 ~~

 Ethan, meanwhile, had been horrified when he'd awoken next to his brother.  How dare he?  He tensed a bit, starting to draw away from his brother.  He was... so dirty.  He couldn't burden Chris like this.  He couldn't...

The small frame trembled, and he clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the sob that rose.

Chris thought nothing bad, nothing negative of his brother - could never think such things. Poor Ethan was so lost and hurt and confused, Chris was almost at a loss himself for how to treat the situation. He only wanted to comfort him, to hold him close and sooth away his demons. But he didn't know what was going on with him, first. He needed to ask . . .

"What's wrong?" he whispered into Ethan's ear. "Why are you afraid of me?"

"Don't," he spoke softly, his voice trembling, not looking at his brother.  He couldn't... "don't look at me..."  Ethan curled up tightly, shying away from his brother.  It hurt to think that he could be... so dirty.  That he could soil his brother like that.  He loved hsi brother so much it hurt.  He'd wanted to be close to him, to stay close, pure for him... but now... but now he couldn't.  Tears slipped over his cheeks, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Oh, my god, Ethan," he whispered, bringing his hand up and wiping away his brother's tears. Even as he did so, he moved to hold the boy close to him - no, not boy, man. Twenty seven years old is most definitely a man. "I could never think less of you, Ethan. My god, you're my brother for christ's sake. I don't care about anything or anyone more than I care about you. Please tell me you understand this . . ."

Ethan shuddered, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking as soft sobs slipped forth.  His body no longer ached, but within him...

"No... no, you c-can't..."  The younger sibling buried his face in the other's shoulder, "dirty... a-and... I... I didn't want to, Chris... Not with them..."

"Hey," said the older man, affectionately combing his hands through his poor brother's hair, "Hey, shh - it's okay. I know you didn't want to. It's not your fault what they did. Not your fault at all. You are innocent in this, Ethan. You didn't deserve it, and I'm here to help you."

"I... I wanted to save it..."  He murmured sobbingly against his brother's shoulder.  "for... for someone else.  Special..."  Ethan bit back saying it, telling him who.  It... would push Chris away, wouldn't it?  Chris wasn't like that... he liked girls, anyway, even besides the fact that they were brothers.

Chris had no choice but to hold him, like he had been. He was worried for Ethan, he hurt for him. His brother had been maliciously used, and now he was reduced to a sobbing heap against his shoulder. He'd never been through anything like this. He didn't think he could ever describe how his heart was breaking at that moment - and how helpless he felt to spare his brother's feelings.

He leaned his head down gently upon Ethan's, and gave him a tender, warm kiss upon his temple and cheek before holding him closer still. "It's okay, Ethan. I'm here. I'm right here for you." he whispered to him.

"O-only you," he murmured, his eyes closed, fingers curling in the sheets toughly.  He'd never been so hurt before.  Ethan had always been more sensitive, more gentle... and then this.  What would he do but cry over it?  Only Chris.... he didn't add onto that, afraid to.  What if he want to far...?  He wanted Chris close, he wanted Chris to help him.

He did not stop giving his comfort, but at least now he was more aware. Only him - he was the special person in Ethan's heart. Chris honestly didn't know how to handle that news. He knew of his brother's sexual preference, and it didn't bother him. He himself had never been interested in same sex relations, but he certainly never looked down on it. However - one thing was certain.

His brother needed love. In its purest form, nothing should ever stand in the way of loving a person. The young man in his arms was so broken and lost - and Chris was not very different. His hand still stroked Ethan's auburn hair, soft as it was when it trailed passed his fingers. The demons needed to be soothed, and Ethan needed to be shown what love is. And Chris was the only one there to be able to do it.

Slowly, he pulled back just enough, bowing his head down. His hand, slightly rough though it might have been, from sword play and polishing, smoothed over Ethan's wet glistening cheek. His kiss rivaled any tenderness ever given to another, the softness and warmth of it filled with nothing but his love for Ethan. He loved Ethan, he knew. He always had loved him, as his brother. His poor brother - he needed this.

Ethan tensed slightly at first, his eyes flickering open at the brush of lips.  But it was Chris there holding him, Chris kissing him, Chris giving his comfort.  It took a moment for it to sink in, and when it did, the tenseness, the worry of the moment fluttered and burned away, replaced by the focus on his brother's closeness.  Love.  It was a word tossed around easily, lightly between people, but this was a heavy, pleasant weight that settled down upon him, one he was more than happy to bear.

He wasn't sure if it was a hint to what could be more, this kiss, but it didn't matter.

Chris was here with him and wouldn't leave him.  Tears still lazily slipped over his pale cheeks as he lifted his head into the gentle, comforting kiss.  Even if it never grew into something more than this, Ethan could be happy.  Because he knew his brother cared.

~

 Riden, who knew his place on the ship, knew his job, and therefore broke the rules anyway, ran and stopped right in the captains quarters. His expression was desperate, his mouth wide, brow furrowed in confusion and anger. "Boss! You have to come quick. That Basram soldier's about to get pummeled by the injured guys! I never seen 'em so riled up, boss! The princess is in there!"

Allen blinked, glancing up from where he sat, frowning.  his first reaction was who cared?  

But... if Angelina was there...

The blonde stood quickly, stalking towards him and past him, his face set grimly.  The only way he could even think of allowing it was if Angelina wasn't there.  He wouldn't have her experience those things done unto another.  Especially one she, for whatever reason, liked so much.  His paces was brisk and he shoved open the door to the infirmary, glancing quickly about.

Hans had been able to sit up with thanks to the healer and his help.  But he still couldn't move very well.  Especially not well enough to defend himself against these men.  He could understand why they were upset, he didn't blame them for that at all.

Angelina had heard the men's complaints, their shouts to the Basram soldier. The anger in their voices, the loudness of them, had made her jump and seek shelter in Hans' comfort. Her face was pressed against the young soldier's chest. She could hear them - they were coming closer to take Hans away from her - to take *her* away from Hans . . . 

She gripped her arms around Hans so tight, crying from her fear. They were just so angry!

"Get the princess," said one of them who was advancing on Hans, another on her to pry her away, "Don't hurt her. She shouldn't have to be at the mercy of this monster."

"All of you stop this!"  Allen stalked towards them, narrowing his eyes.  He could se the faint fear lingering in the Basram soldier's eyes and he could understand why it was there.  He was alone in enemy territory, surrounded by men so angry, hurt by that man's army.  

Allen didn't care of the man there, not really.  But he could prove to be an asset if he held any significance to Basram.  He looked almost like he could be a lord's son, after all.

Hans didn't try and hold Angelina close to him, even if she clung.  He had no right here.  She didn't know what he had done to these people, what he would have done had he not been injured so.

"You harbor an enemy!" said one soldier, who's eye was taken by stray flaque from a rifleman, his head and right eye thoroughly bandaged. He, nor did any other, care that they spoke to their superior officer in such a way. They were angry, embittered, and wanting revenge. "His army killed our comrades!"

"Their cannons took my arm!" yelled the one-armed soldier, hate burning in his wild eyes.

"My legs!" cried another, "They will not work!"

"And still you have the gall to take him in and care for him!" yelled the first who had spoken, with the missing eye. "There is no honor in this! He must die as our comrades have, wrench him from his own family and see how they might like to bear the news of *his* death! Even if it's hard to believe a monster could ever be so loved!"

"Father!" screamed the little girl, her voice desperate and wrought with fear in her shrill cry. "Hans! Not Hans! Don't let them hurt us!!"

Allen frowned darkly, holding up a hand.  "Hush, all of you.  It is indeed grievous that we have suffered so much under Basram's hands... but we cannot give up to our anger so quickly.  What if this man holds some significance, no matter how unlikely it will be?  We might yet have an advantage."  And his daughter would be oh so distraught if anything happened to the pretty young man.

It was Hans who willingly offered the information, though he sought no allowances from it.  He fully expected the penalties of his crimes against these people to be punished.  "Meine vater," he began, then paused, shaking his head.  "My father... the Basram general he is."  The words sometimes were tripped over because of his light grasp on the unfamiliar language.  Even if he was the general's son... he had no way of knowing if it would matter.  His father had always been distrusting of him.  No matter what he'd done, it had never been enough.

"He's a prince, Father," Angelina tried to explain, after Hans' declaration. Riden had been watching the whole scene in horror - hate was a very foreign thing to the happy little soldier. Even if he saw death and destruction, somehow he'd always managed to find something to be cheerful about. So the expression on his face was different indeed. He went to crouch beside the little girl, wary of the eyes on him.

The other wounded in the room snarled, but kept mostly quiet. It was the first one who spoke again. "If he's leverage, than at least take him from our sight - for those of us who still have it." Riden was already hushing the little princess, soothing her and taking her from her prince. He promised to move them into a different room, and so she remained calm for now.

"Boss, could you help move him to the quarters next door?" he asked of his commander, and he rarely asked anything of Allen. Slowly he stood, carefully holding the little angel in his arms, who immediately snuggled into his shoulder.

Allen was thankful for Riden, really.  He, himself, wanted to jerk the Basram soldier about angrily.  His men had died because of this man's army.  his men suffered, his people...

But Riden's gentle actions made him force a calm down upon himself.  The blonde sighed softly, helping Hans up carefully.  He'd tell Melzin of it later so he wouldn't worry over the sudden disappearance of the soldier.  Hans didn't thank them... he knew it wouldn't matter.  It wouldn't bring back any of those who had been lost.  His own stomach had lurched several times over after viewing the destruction that had been caused by the weapons he, himself had used.  He ahd killed before... 

He had killed these people.

Angelina was once again settled by Hans' side, in his own makeshift quarters upon an actual bed and not the hard floor. Riden could tell, just by looking at Allen's face, that his commander was loathe to give the enemy such comfort. But he still had his daughter to think about, after all. The small soldier gazed down at the little girl - her ringlets no longer prominent, and her curly hair was falling in wild waves of silver about her shoulders.

She was such a precious little thing. A silver princess, who only knew love. "You've raised an angel, boss." said Riden quietly.

"She's the only reason I haven't tossed him out of the ship," he murmured softly, honestly.  There wasn't any point in denying his loathing of the man.  "But if what he speaks is the truth and he is the general's son... then we might be able to barter.  But we have to get to Palas first."

Allen sighed softly, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling.  He was on edge anyway, thanks to the pain Gaddes was in.  

"I'll start up the power, boss." said Riden quietly, leaving immediately to do his duty. He was a thief, the watch, in charge of the periscope - but there were so few of them left, he'd since acquired new duties.

 ~

 Gaddes heard the propellers rumble to life, the power hum throughout the walls and floorboards. He looked around the room he was in, out the window where the daylight shone through. He still had his duty, he thought. He had to help - he couldn't just lay there. He was the navigator, Allen's right hand man. He was needed.

He threw back the covers, grunting and clenching his jaw. A mighty heave to the side and he fell to the floor, a cry tearing from his throat as his back was jarred, his legs refusing to work. He glared at the disobedient appendages, panting and trying to pull himself to stand. But he couldn't move. He cried out a curse to the ceiling, gripping the bed and pulling himself up - but he would not budge.

After Allen had watched Riden leave, he bit back the urge to punch the Basram soldier.  He seemed so... forlorn, so morose, so... lost.  He almost felt bad for the younger man.  With a sigh, Allen turned, heading back into his room, where Gaddes lay.

Or rather... no longer lay.  "Gaddes!?  What are you doing?"  The blonde started a bit, padding over to him, looping arms around the other's waist.  Carefully, he heaved him up, worried.  "Are you alright?"

He growled in pain, throwing his head back and wincing when he was lifted back to the bed. His legs still hung over the edge, but he didn't notice. Instead he pressed himself into the pillows, panting. "They need me - on the bridge." he managed.

Allen sighed softly, kissing the man's lips gently.  "Gaddes, hush.  We'll be fine... you just get better.  That's all you need to do.  Just get better..."

The sergeant's brow furrowed slightly, be he accepted the affection and returned it. Pulling back, he swallowed, lifting his head slightly to see if the rest of him had made it on the bed. With a pained sigh, he said, "Ah, shit . . . Allen, could you . . .?"

Allen smiled a little, shuffling the older man all the way onto the bed, once more leaning down and brushing his lips against Gaddes'.  "I love you no matter what happens, okay?  No matter how much either of us changes, I'll still love you..."

The older man quirked a tired, weak little grin. His eyes half closed, he reached behind Allen's head, combing his shaking fingers through the other man's hair. "Why do you think . . . I'm still hanging around?" he said, bringing Allen close to him and giving him a kiss that lingered. Their noses rubbed, but he didn't care. He kissed his lover for a long time before daring to pull away. He loved him, after all.

Allen smiled softly, looking at his lover, stroking his stubbly cheek.  "I can't get over saying it," he murmured softly, bowing his head against the other man's shoulder.  "It thrills me every time..."

Gaddes swallowed again, happy that Allen was so happy with him. His hand gently rest upon the knight's head, but his face was turned toward the coming dusk and the mountains as they glided passed. "I know," began the sergeant softly, "that I can never replace Celena. . ."

"There isn't replacing her... but there isn't replacing you, either, Gaddes.  Both of you hold my heart..."  Allen smiled, his voice purring just softly.

"I'm glad," Gaddes smiled back at him, turning away from the darkening window and gazing at him fondly. "I know it was hard losing her, but it pleases me to know that you have moved on, and not forgotten her either. I loved her too, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," he murmured, smiling.  Allen nodded slightly, brushing his lips against the other's neck.  "I think... she'd rather that I moved on, especially to you.  I know... she trusted you so much... I think she'd be happy."

"I think so too, Allen," said Gaddes softly. He lifted his head, just slightly tilting it back to allow the kisses upon his neck. "You should go lead your men. You have a ship to run."

"Mm... just so long as you promise to stay right here, Gaddes.  I don't want you hurting yourself all over again, alright?"

Gaddes let out a sigh, nodding slightly. "I'm alright. I'll just lay here - try to sleep, I guess." He gently nudged Allen back, looking into his eyes as his hand gingerly stroked the other man's cheek. "You need to take care of yourself and your daughter. Now go do your job. It's not like I'm going anywhere anyway."

Allen smiled softly, once more brushing his lips against his lover's, standing.  "The boy, Hans... he's the general's son.  We might just have a card in our hands that could turn the tide."  Allen smiled brilliantly, turning and walking calmly out, far more calm than he had been before.

~

 The Crusade flew to Palas on the strongest winds but with the lowest lifts - they did not get detected by any of the surrounding Basram air fleets, as the ravine through the mountains made good cover for the frigate. Riden and the remaining crew of the Crusade, save for Gaddes who was still on the captain's ship, followed their commander through the halls of the royals.

Millerna had been surprised by the news, as she'd been suffering from anxiety since she received word of the attacks on Forts Castelo and Montague in the north and north east. She was pleased, however, that they had that bargaining chip - Hans, the son of a great Basram general. Immediately, she sent off messengers to go in peace to the Basram armies to inform them of who they held prisoner.

This was four days ago. Schezar manor was used to harbor the few wounded from Fort Castelo, a safe house for them. The Crusade was tied down in the fields just beyond the front courtyard, and the crew helped both Icarus and Melzin to care for the wounded soldiers of the destroyed Fort Castelo. Hans was put in a room on the second floor. For a few moments, Angelina left him to explore the new place - but without adults to supervise her, she nearly fell down the stairs. Luckily, Oruto was the one that caught her and put her back to Hans' side since she wouldn't be anywhere else.

Gaddes was once again put to bed, in Allen's chambers, and there he had remained since. Dealing with embarrassment of being helpless was one thing - he couldn't do anything by himself. He felt horrible for being unable to get up and help his shipmates care for the numerous wounded soldiers from his fort. His own wounds were closing up enough. But he couldn't help them.

Allen, after Hans had healed enough to walk, for the most part, on his own, decided to bring him before Millerna.  The uniform of the knight was gone, shredded and left back on Earth, arriving in foppish, swashbuckling attire, wire-rimmed glasses settled lightly on his nose.  He could see...

An arm around the Basram soldier to support him, detesting him, Allen led him within the castle.  The Basram soldier did not say anything to the heated glares or outcries from the people within the palace or within the city itself.  He was humbled, and still injured.  He understood that he had no right to complain, not here, not after he had killed so many.

Once he was thrown down before the Queen, Millerna couldn't help but swallow in nervousness. She has been Asturia's ruler for five years, and she still wasn't used to some of the responsibility. There were decidedly no courtiers present for this introduction to the Basram soldier, Millerna had made it clear that she did not want people fainting all over the place - or getting overwhelmed by anger.

"Your name, Basram." said Millerna sternly.

Allen stepped to the side, his head slightly bowed.  Hans had shown no violence towards them yet... but faced with the queen, he wouldn't leave it to happen.  

"Hans," he murmured softly, the wince in his voice as pain bloomed in his side at the rough treatment.  "Hans Reichmann."  Blonde hair slipped forward over his shoulders.  (Just making sure)

"General Reichmann?" Millerna asked cautiously, peering at the young soldier with a downcast glare. "You are his son, yes?" She looked to Allen for confirmation, just in case the young soldier decided to hold his peace to the question.

Allen inclined his head slightly in agreement to her question.  But it wasn't needed, really.  "Ja, his... son."  Asturian had not gotten much easier for him the time he had been with the soldiers.  He never spoke much, after all.

Millerna stood up from her red upholstered gilded chair, not really her throne. Her dress had been simple since the attacks, for practicality. So her regal air was mostly found in the way she glided toward the knight, not necessarily in her gown. Her head was still lifted high, her expression firm.

"Allen, già avete trasmesso i messaggeri?" she asked in Asturian, wondering if the Basram soldier would understand her. (Allen, have you already sent the messengers?)

Hans could understand parts of it, but he showed no signs of it.  The knight nodded slightly to the woman.  "Ho. Un pochi giorni fa lasciano, ma non sono ritornati ancora. L'informerò quando fanno."  (I have.  A few days ago they left, but they have not yet returned.  I will inform you when they do.)

Millerna nodded, thoughtful of some plans going through her head. She had grown up a lot since being crowned queen, it seemed, and it showed in her weary features. She didn't smile as often as she used to, but that was perhaps due to the ensuing war with Basram since she took the throne. For now, however, she simply stood, straight and tall. 

 "Take him to the dungeons. We'll hold him there until we receive word from the general." she said in a clipped tone to her guards. At once, two guards obeyed and began to drag Hans up by his arms.

Hans winced a bit again at the pull at his wound and he stumbled slightly, but he bit back the cry of pain that rose.  He might have been humble before them, but he had a bit of pride nonetheless.  Allen looked at the man as he was taken off, his eyes almost cold as he watched.  That man... he and his men had killed people Allen knew so well... those man had injured Gaddes, quite possibly paralyzed him for life.  And the gods would strike Allen down before he forgave him for that.

Millerna looked to Allen, not being able to bear the sight of the man being dragged away to her dungeons. She stepped up to the knight, trembling hands grasping his sleeves. Her eyes - they were so tense, her muscles were barely holding her up. This whole war was wearing down on her. She bore deep into Allen's gaze. "I need to speak to you," she said quickly.

Allen turned his eyes to her, bowing his head.  "As you wish.  I am here for you as I have always been, your highness."  It was troubling to see her so... upset over this.  Though he could understand why well enough.

Her hand still twisted into the fabric of his sleeve, she nearly dragged him to the side room, private council chambers. Upon closing the door, Millerna barely took a second to look at Allen before collapsing onto him. Her knees would not hold her any longer, but she could not show her weakness in front of her council or guards. But she could with Allen - she trusted him.

Allen blinked slightly, at first tensing.  But... he put an arm around her, leading her gently over to a chair and helping her sit down.  "What is it that troubles you so?  There is more to it than simply this war.  You are strong, Millerna..."

Even before she settled into the chair, her eyes closed, thick, wet tears seeped through her dark lashes and bitterly splashed onto her gown. Her grip on his hand was unrelenting, all her pain and sorrow in that hold, stressing and squeezing with the agony in her clenched heart. Her lip trembled, her head was bowed and her golden hair spilled to hide her face. She couldn't help but sob, her words barely discernable through the choked cries.

"Our losses - Jechia . . . we have lost so many," she sobbed, her body convulsing with them, "Oh, gods - so many . . ."

Allen sighed softly, holding her hand gently in his own gloved one.  "We have... but we have learned the secret of their gunpowder, Millerna.  We know their secret.  Two boys from the Mystic Moon travel with me.  We have their advantages."

"Sir Elden," she cried quietly, her tear-stricken eyes lifting to gaze at Allen again, drops spilling over and pouring down her fair blushed cheek. "He fought so bravely . . . "

Allen tensed, his eyes widening slightly.  His fingers curled a little tighter around hers.  Silence stayed for a few moments, besides her tearful breathing, and then he glanced away.  They had promised aid to one another... but he had been sent off to the fort and could no longer keep that promise.  "Honor," he murmured, shaken, "He died with honor, of course.  How... how many of the knights are left...?"

His strength - she needed his strength now. So many lives - so many precious lives were lost. His hand was her connection to something solid, still living flesh. He was still willing to fight, and he yet breathed to defend his country. She looked away, her eyes screwed shut. Her head hurt and her eyes grew sore of shedding so many tears.

"Two." she whispered.

Allen could not hold back the soft gasp.  Two... only two.  Those men... he knew them so well, he had heard their welcoming calls when he and Sir Elden had returned.  And by Jechia... only two remained.  Pain bloomed in his heart and he turned his head away, biting back pained, sorrowful tears.  The youngest still lived.  But...

"I will fight for their honor," he murmured, almost to himself.  A promise.  He would fight, he would make sure they won this war, to put their souls at ease, to make sure that they did not die in vain.

It was then that Millerna stood, and wasted no time in embracing the knight. He was - her friend. After all the years of childish crushes, the time spent together, their adventures across the sea - he was one of her last remaining friends, and she gripped him, her arms tight as if she were holding onto the very thread of life - holding onto some kind of hope. Her cheek pressed against his narrow chest, the tears still slipped down her face, her eyebrows knitted from the pain in her heart.

"Please don't die - don't get yourself killed. You and Sir Laison are the only ones left. The only ones . . ." she whispered, her voice choking, "Gods, please. . . "

Allen put an arm around her, hugging her gently.  "I will not die until they have been avenged and Asturia is safe, that much I promise you, Millerna."  The blonde was amazed at how steady he'd kept his voice as he spoke, considering the tremble in his narrow frame.

"Where... where is he now?"

The queen sniffed pathetically, pulling back and wiping away at her cheek with a gloved hand, now soiled. "I have harbored him in some quarters here at the palace. He came from Fort Montague, injured, but alive." 

Allen nodded slightly, an even harsher dislike for Hans and his people surfacing.  The knight looked at her calmly, then embraced her in a hug.  "Are you alright for now?  I... I would like to see him."

Millerna was glad for his embraced, and gave him one in turn, full of care and tenderness. "Yes. I'll be fine. There's no one else to speak to about my troubles. And - you were always there when I needed someone to bend their ear. I could never repay you for all the kindness you've shown me, my dear friend."

"Nor I, you, of course.  You gave me back a life I thought I was never destined to have again... and that is more than I could have ever hoped for."  The knight brushed his lips against her cheek comfortingly, resting a hand on her shoulder for a moment before he turned, stalking quietly out.


	36. The Royals of Fanelia

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**The Royals of Fanelia**

Allen spoke with the other knight on several occasions, long hours spent conversing and speaking strategies with the older man.  Again, a father figure.  He explained the occurrences he had seen--his fall to the Mystic Moon and his return with the brothers, the death of his sister... and, of course, speaking of the small treasure he had been left by Celena.  Angelina charmed everyone.

It was at least a week before the roar of hoofbeats were clattering outside the palace gates.  The three messengers had returned.  Two were dead, maimed, bloodied.  The last, injured, barely able to breathe as he relayed the message.  "No son of mine who is captured by Asturia is a son worthy of his life."  No bartering.  Hans was left on his own here in this horridly different land.  Hans was visibly shaken when he heard the news.  He was still a boy, still so young, and the harsh brush away of his father pained him.  He knew he would not go without punishment... but to be so forgotten...

The young soldier slumped in defeat.  He didn't bother eating the meager food that was brought to him in the dungeons, he did not speak to the guards or visitors he had.  Allen refused to let Angelina in that dungeon, even if it was to see Hans.  Of course, that was even more reason not to.

She cried and cried sour tears upon her father's knees. When the little girl wanted something, she really tried to get it. It was just - so unusual for her father to refuse her so firmly, relentlessly. It was not something she was used to. She was the princess. They always said yes. Always.

Angelina gripped her father's pant leg, her face pressed into his thigh as she sobbed, "I want to see Hans! Let me have him back! I want him back! Father, please! I want Hans..."

"He is no good, Angelina.  Believe me, this is for your own good.  He will only hurt you in the end, please listen to me."  Allen hugged her close, sighing.  He was disheartened by the news the boy's father had sent.  He did feel a bit of pity for him for that, at least.  For a father to be so cruel, well... he was sure he could know the hurt.

But he had heard of the man's failing health.  There were no healers there that took care of him, and he'd heard from Millerna that he hadn't been eating.  He'd seen him... the boy was wasting away.  Of course, he could see it, why he let himself go like that.  No sentence had been passed on the young soldier, no move to be made to put him on trial.  And that, perhaps, was the worst of it for Hans.  

The princess' frown was pronounced, and her father could only hold her for a second before she pushed away from him. She hit him angrily, blindly - making sharp contact with the skin of his face. Angelina made no motion to regret her actions. It was clear that she was truly angry that Hans was taken away. She quickly slipped to the floor and traced her way into the parlor, to a corner, and there sat petulantly against the wall.

Allen started, shocked at her violence.  He lifted a hand to his cheek where she had struck him, staring after her.  She just... couldn't understand that he was trying to protect her.  The blonde sighed, bowing his head slightly, rubbing his cheek idly.  And surely if she met the boy now, she'd be even more upset.  He wouldn't let her into the cell he was kept in--especially considering that he wasn't the only one that was in there.  And it was always obvious that he wasn't in the best of health.  Allen... felt a small bit of guilt for not telling Melzin of the boy's failing health... but the healer had duties to his country and there were so many to be healed here.

Kio, Riden, Pyle and Oruto were the only crew members left alive and able bodied. But despite the brewing war and approaching Basram armies, they stood by their commander, taking shelter in his home and waiting anxiously for orders. Each of them took turns caring for the sergeant still in Allen's own bed, while the others sat around the dining room, feeling that if they touched anything in this noble's house that it would readily become soiled.

Kio sat on the floor, all of them having watched the tirade from Allen's distraught little daughter. They were all very quiet, staring at the bespectacled knight with grief in their eyes and hearts.

"Boss," said the big man quietly, the others turning their gaze to him, "What's gonna happen to the Sarge?"

Allen sighed softly, bowing his head.  "I... don't know.  I hope just as much as you that he'll be alright.  He's strong... I'm sure he'll pull through."  He wasn't sure... but he could hope.  And he did.  He hoped and prayed and did what he could to ensure that Gaddes would be alright.  Staying here, knowing the war was just outside...

"You know.. that boy we brought back, the Basram soldier.  He's the son of the general... we sent out messengers to Basram, willing to barter."  The blonde fell silent for a moment, sighing, tipping his head back.  "They returned recently... two of them maimed, the other... he died just recently.  The general's just abandoning his son here to us."

Oruto snarled, letting out a huff, "Leave him to us, boss. We'll make sure he's treated the way he deserves. Especially for hurting the Sarge and destroying the fort. Oh, yeah - did I mention he fucking killed most of our friends?"

Pyle only looked down at his hands, he too sat on the floor. His expression was pained, full of confusion, "I like most of those men." His tone was sad, so full of that childlike ignorance that was Pyle.

Kio said nothing. But Riden, cheerful little Riden, had his covered head bowed, his hands pressed hard to his face as he sniffled loudly. Oruto looked at the smaller man in disgust. "Stop crying, for gods' sake!" he snapped at Riden.

"I - I can't help it . . ." cried the smaller man, "It's horrible. Everything's so horrible."

Allen tucked a leg to his chest, sighing, staring off after his daughter.  "I just wish sometimes... that I could live my life like her.  That I could go back to the way I was before.  That way... I wouldn't have to see it."  The blonde bowed his forehead against his drawn up knee.  "We've fought a war before, but it wasn't a slaughter like this.  We... we don't stand a chance, not like this.  Every day we lose more and more soldiers.  I... and one other.  We're all that's left of the Knights Caeli.  I wish... I could see the world so... plainly, like her. She can't possibly hate him... and... I know it's wrong, I know I shouldn't, but I do.  I can't help but hate him.  Even if he wasn't the one that did this to Gaddes, even if he wasn't the one that killed all those men... he's still a part of this stupid war."

The blonde man slipped off the chair, walking over next to Riden and sitting down.  For a moment, he watched him, then embraced him tightly, closing his eyes.  "I envy you so much, you know..."

"B-Boss," sobbed Riden, clutching his commander tightly, face buried into the man's shoulder, "I don't get it. . . why?"

"I don't know... I wish I knew.  I just... I want this all to stop, but I can't do anything to stop it.  I'm afraid to go back out there.  I have so few of you left... I'm... I'm scared to lose the rest of you."

"Boss..." Riden's fists tightened and twisted the shirt he grasped, screwing his eyes shut and pressing his face into Allen's shoulder - it was a sudden tense reflex, and it only made the smaller man cry harder. It was a nightmare - a horrible nightmare that none of them could wake from. It wasn't before long when Pyle, sympathetic and sad as he was, sidled up to the two men huddled together on the floor, and placed his arm over them both.

Allen couldn't let himself cry, no matter how much he felt like it.  His arms still around Riden, his narrow shoulders quivering, Pyle's arm around them.  They were all he had left, they, Gaddes and Angelina.  He couldn't bear to lose any more of them.  Already, Angelina was angry at him, a constant emotion from her... all because he couldn't trust the Basram soldier.  Hans had offered up information willingly, though sullen through it and it had been confirmed he'd been telling the truth.  It was obvious he didn't expect any sort of safety from it...

 His daughter would hate him if he let the Basram soldier die.  But what could he do?

 Allen slid an arm around Pyle, not bothering to fight back the shaking in his thin form.  It was a time they could all show their weakness.

Angelina, from across the room, was crying with Riden. She didn't understand - pirates attacking, all her friends were gone. The soldiers - they all weren't there anymore and she didn't understand. "Why is everyone crying?" she sobbed, her head against the wall and her sweet little face contorted with pain and sadness.

Allen tensed at her words, a shudder sliding through him.  He couldn't cry.  He just... he couldn't.  "It's... it's nothing, princess," he said softly, forcing the quiver out of his voice.  She couldn't know about death, not yet.

But she crawled over, tripping on her dress as it dragged across the floor, easily following the sound of their sniffles despite emitting many of her own. One hand outstretched, she reached and touched someone's shoulder, unable to tell who's it was. The moment her fingers felt the solidness of someone's shaking shoulder, she attached herself to them, wedging herself in-between them - crying and sobbing like only a little girl could.

Allen sighed softly, shaking.  Maybe she didn't hate him after all, which was good.  It was his familiar scent that fluttered to her nose, the soft smell of rosewater and powder.  His hair spilled over his and Riden's shoulders as he hugged the small man, and finally he relented.  Quiet tears slipped over his cheeks.  Tears for his soldiers, for the knights that had fallen... tears for his country, his queen, his daughter, the two brothers from the Mystic Moon.

His gloved fingers curled into Riden's and Pyle's shirts as he let out a quiet sob, lithe form quivering.  It hurt... so much.

~

 It would be days before any kind of good news was brought to the crumbling nation of Asturia. After so much waiting, Van Fanel arrived in the port at Palas with his queen and three children. The news they had for the weary Queen Millerna was to be a great relief. Of course, he did not overlook bringing the legendary war melef Escaflowne with him. 

Diplomacy had won them their allies. Not only of Fanelia, but of Daedalus, Cesario, and Egzardia. The four countries that lay on Asturia's borders minus the enemy. Though their technology was weaker, not as advanced as Basram's, they now had more numbers. Despite the diminished troops of Asturia, and the growing battalions of the allies, they now had an advantage beyond that.

Word had been sent to the King of Fanelia that two men from the Mystic Moon possessed the secret of Basram's weaponry. The Schezar estate was the safe house in which the remaining troops from Fort Castelo resided, where the Terrans stayed. And so, the Fanelian royal family paid them a visit after meeting with Asturia's queen.

Allen had just returned from seeing the Basram soldier, once more shaken by how much his health had diminished.  The man was giving up, it was that simple.  It was a pity, really, that such a thing would happen, especially to someone Angelina had grown so attached to.  He had not spoken much with Millerna, unaware of Van and Hitomi heading towards his estate.  With a heavy sigh, his coat was set aside and he took up his place at a window sill, staring dully out.  He was glad for their allies, more than glad... but he could no hold much hope.  

Ethan had finally been able to wander about among all of them, but he was still wary, still a little shaky.  Many times, he would quickly return to his brother's side, almost frantically.  Riden became a nearly constant companion, both of them empathetic to the harshness, the sadness that permeated the air.  

The young man ran a hand through his long hair, idly toying with the dual piercings in his tongue.

There were at least five Fanelian guards, dressed in their armor of dragon scales, swords clacking loudly at their sides as they escorted the royal family across the grounds toward Schezar Manor. They would take no chances, as Van - though he was king - was a valuable asset to the battle against Basram. When they arrived to the front door, one guard announced robustly, "King Van de Fanel approaches! Make way and let him enter!"

Van just rolled his eyes at the formality, lowering his gaze toward his children who giggled and stood behind their mother. Hitomi placed a hand on the princess' head, smiling fondly. She would explain it later, like the good mother that she was.

Allen rose from the window sill, walking calmly over, pushing open the door.  Ah... the sight was welcome, especially since he could now see how much his friends had aged.  The blonde offered a slight smile, inclining his head to them and stepping aside.  "Your highnesses, I bid you welcome."  Formalities, of course, the tone faintly teasing.  He knew how much Van preferred to go without it... and Allen, in such a time, needed a bit of humor.

Ethan blinked, glancing up from his seat on the couch, tugging off the earphones and pausing the CD player he'd had in his pants pocket when he'd come here.  He'd only recently remembered he'd had it... and was more than surprised the batteries hadn't yet died.

"You can see," said Hitomi, before her husband could answer - but Van only gave her a playful glance of indignation. Hitomi smiled warmly towards him, then to Allen and quickly went to the knight. Her hands placed on either side of his face, looking at her friend fondly - into his eyes. "Oh, Allen - you can see again." And she hugged him fiercely.

Allen smiled softly, nodding, hugging her back.  "I can, finally... thanks to the Mystic Moon."  The blonde looked at her children, again smiling.  "I see Van has been hard at work, hmm?"

The Fanelian Queen pulled back to introduce her children. She pushed each of the bashfull little ones before her, placing a hand on their heads as she said their names. "My sons, Prince Senki and Prince Keiki." she said, and her 6 year old sons bowed their heads slightly as they were taught to do. The little girl next to them looked to be about 4 years old, and she blushed horribly when she saw the handsome Asturian knight. "And this is Princess Yume."

The little girl, with hair like ebony like her father and eyes like emeralds, stared up at Allen in awe, not even able to suffice in a proper curtsey towards the man. Instead, she quickly hid behind her mother's skirts.

"I see that you yourself have not been left wanting, Allen," said Van cheekily, indicating the little silver haired girl that resided in the doorway behind her father, her ringlets sparkling and her eyes always gazing upwards and half closed. The twin princes saw her, and tried following her gaze, wondering what was so interesting up in the air.

"What's she looking at?" asked Keiki scathingly.

Allen chuckled a little, calling his daughter over.  He, for the moment, ignored the prince's question.  He gathered up Angelina in his arms, carrying her over.  "Mm... my daughter, Angelina."  It was... painful to hear such a biting question asked, especially after he, himself had heard such things directed at himself.  "She... is blind, as unfortunate as it might be.  Born that way."  Allen set her down, softly stroking her hair.  "But she's still a little princess anyway."

The king and queen smiled at the little girl, who could only stare at nothing but move her head at the sounds of their shifting feet. The Princess Yume, from behind Hitomi's dress, stared at Angelina - eyes wide with fascination at her beautiful silver hair in gorgeous ringlets, the pristine little white dress of Asturian fashion. So unlike the long frocks that Fanelians wore, with the large bows tied at the front. 

"She's pretty," said the little princess bashfully. Angelina smiled and, out of habit and instinct, stepped over to her voice, her arms outstretched to hug Yume. The Fanelian princess whimpered and hid further behind Hitomi, and one of the princes stuck his foot out. It was Angelina's turn to whimper, surprised and falling to her knees, the grass staining them.

"Keiki!" said Van, glaring at his son and quickly taking him by the ear away from the group. His strides were quick, two guards hastily following their king.

Allen started, kneeling down and taking Angelina into his grasp, pulling her close.  It was something about children, they were mean to those different from them... that's all it was.  Of course... this would be Angelina's first experience with prejudice... it was only too sad that it would come from children.  The knight gently stroked her hair, a soft sigh on his lips.  What was he to do?  

Ethan padded over, crouching down and ruffling Angelina's hair.  "You are pretty, you know that?"  Comfort, of course.  Even if he felt miserable, he couldn't let her cry or get upset or anything.  He just couldn't.

Angelina reached for her uncle, her nose tickling her and she sniffled. She was given to Ethan to take back inside, and her ringlets bounced with her uncle's steps. Hitomi looked practically aghast that her son had been so malicious, looking at his twin and warning him with a glare. She turned her attention to Allen then.

"Allen, I'm sorry about Keiki." her expression was so full of hurt for her friend. She took a breath and gathered Senki and Yume, pushing them along before her. "Let's go inside. There is much to talk about. Especially about gunpowder. It'd be the only way to survive this war."

Ethan walked quietly, inside, but he talked to her, if only to keep her mind off the occurrence a few minutes ago.  Even if he sounded happier... he was still skittish.  

Allen nodded slightly, gazing over his shoulder at Ethan as he left.  He sighed softly, leading them inside and into the living room.  "You and those two both, Hitomi... all pulled into our troubles without a choice.  And I'm so sorry about it..."  The knight shook his head, settling into a chair.  "It'll be Chris you'll want to talk about the gunpowder with, Ethan isn't very much into such things."

"It'll probably be Van doing the planning for gunpowder." replied Hitomi. Once they were in the parlor, she crouched down to her children and told them to behave with Angelina and play with her while Allen and she spoke. Quietly, they obeyed and followed after the man who had carried her away to the back of the house - probably to go outside to the fields.

Van came in, the same quick, stern strides he had since he's grown a bit from when he was 16. He pulled a teary eyed Keiki by the wrist, marching him inside and telling him flatly to go outside with his brother and sister - which Keiki quickly ran to do.

Allen was silent for a moment, looking at the pair across from him.  "Have you been fully informed of the dire situation here?" he asked plainly.  There wasn't really time to waste.  He idly wondered if they'd seen Hans... and doubted it, really.

"You've been greatly outnumbered. You've lost many soldiers." Van said immediately, but the look on Allen's face meant there was more than just basic statistics. "What else is happening that we need to know about, Allen? The ally countries are already on their way to the Asturian capital, ready to defend. Is there something else?"

"There are four of the original Crusade crew left besides myself.  Gaddes..."  Allen took a moment to steel his voice, "Gaddes... is at least temporarily paralyzed.  There are two Knights Caeli left alive, including me.  The fort has fallen, Ethan has been devastated, Celena is dead... shall I continue?"

The heavy silence in the parlor could have choked, and for several painful moments it suffocated their hearts. Hitomi lowered her head, subtly wiping away her tears, her chestnut hair falling to hide her face. Van's gaze was firmly planted toward the floor, his head bowed in respect for all those who have fallen under Basram's slaughter.

"We've - only heard the news from third parties," said the king quietly, "we never knew . . ."

"No, it's... I didn't mean for it to be so harsh.  It's just... my grief is close and it keeps mounting."  The knight sighed, shaking his head a little.  "I'm sorry.  I don't want to make it sound like I don't appreciate all the aid you are giving us.  I appreciate it more than you know, I want you to understand that."  But especially the news of Gaddes... he had lost Celena already and Gaddes now suffered.

"The only bargaining chip we had... doesn't matter.  The Basram soldier we brought with us--oddly enough at Angelina's urging--is the son of the general.  So obviously we thought that would be an advantage.  But... the message sent back to us was nothing more than three more of our soldiers dead and 'No son of mine who is captured by Asturia is a son worthy of his life.'  I feel... sympathy for the boy--he can't be older than twenty--but even still, what are we to do?"

Van would not leave his friend wondering. He immediately went into detail about his battle tactics, how to utilize their allies and cut their losses. He had alchemists ready to learn the recipe of the explosive concoction that was to Basram's advantage. Hitomi heard her husband's voice but did not listen. Her head was still bowed and she continued to shed tears for the tragic fate that so many soldiers had suffered to.

It was at one point too unbearable, and the fragile hearted queen needed to excuse herself from the parlor. She would find comfort in her children at least. So she fled outside to the fields where the royal fanelian children played with Angelina. 

Allen was quiet as he listened, every once in awhile offering his advice on certain things, debating tactics with Van.  It was... comforting, really, something to keep his mind off the losses.  Allen was not necessarily an embittered man, but he did hold much paina nd sorrow within him... and an anger towards the Basram soldier that he didn't quite exactly deserve.

Ethan was outside, having brought Angelina with him.  He had settled down with his back against the wall of the house, staring off, biting down on the inside of his bottom lip.  Slowly, with the urgings from the men on the Crusade that still remained--men that had grown fond of him and he of them--as well as the comfort of his brother's near presence, had begun calming down, chancing going out alone sometimes, losing himself to his thoughts.

"Uncle Ethan," said Angelina. She was not aware that it had been one of the boys that tripped her earlier, only that she had tripped over something before one of the princes were yelled at. In truth, she was fascinated by the thought of the royal children. They were really Princes and a Princess! She wanted so very much to play with them. "Where are the princes and the princess? Iwant to play!"

Ethan blinked a little, glancing over at her.  "Ah?  Oh, they're over to your left.  Shall I lead you?"  Ethan reached out, touching her fingers lightly with his own.

"No!" she said indignantly, "I can find them myself." and she stood up quickly, walking forward a few steps before slumping her shoulders. "Which way is left?"

Ethan laughed a little, ruffling her hair gently, pointing her in the right direction.  "Be careful, okay?"

Careful in the unknown territory of the fields, her little black shoes shuffling along gingerly until she could hear giggles of other children. She's hardly ever met other children, let alone others that were her age. Angelina felt herself drawing nearer to the sounds of their laughter, but the moment they noticed, all of them hushed. She frowned. They stopped laughing, and now she couldn't find them.

"Hello?" she asked, searching the air just in front of her for any sign of the children.

Ethan cocked his head to the side slightly, sadly, and watched.  They... didn't want her near them, it was obvious enough.  Although, Ethan was pleased to see the shy little girl peek out from behind her brothers and shuffle slightly towards her.  It was endearing, the children, besides the fact that they automatically disliked her for her differences.  It was troubling, really.

Angelina frowned again, shifting her head to the sounds of the timid footsteps. Her shoulders slumped. "Are you playing?" she asked, "Can I play with you?"

The little girl nervously glanced at her brothers, shuffling quietly towards the girl, biting down on her bottom lip.  "Why can't you see us?"  She asked innocently, her voice soft, hesitant.

An expression of confusion crossed Angelina's fair features, her eyes blinking a little. She cocked her head to the side, thinking about the question. She always wondered what seeing for everyone else was, really. She knew she was different and that she couldn't see, but for her it had always been that way. And so she asked, "Why can *you* see like everyone else?"

One of the boys piped up from behind her, almost angrily.  "Because we're normal, that's why!  You're just weird."  

Ethan cringed slightly at the harsh words, looking at Angelina.  It was sad... everyone had treated her so kindly, and now this, by children her own age.

Angelina hung her head, her little fists grasping each other before her. Her pretty silver ringlets, those that her father took great care in fixing for her every morning, hid her little blushing face. She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, but managed to say, "Say it again . . ."

"We're normal, not weird like you!"  Ethan padded softly over to Angelina's side, resting a steady hand on her shoulder.  He'd take her back inside if she wanted.  He'd take her to see Gaddes or something.  She didn't have to stay here.

"Don't be mean to her!"  Yelled the normally shy little girl, balling her little fists up and walking over to the girl in a determined manner.  "Do you want to play?  Mommy let me bring my dolls with me."

"O-Okay," she sniffed, wiping her nose continually on her sleeve. She heard the boys, and where one of them had yelled from - her ears were her only navigation, and so they were very sharp and keen to pick up their subtle footsteps upon the dirt. They were not far from her. Her uncle's hand was only lightly placed upon her shoulder, and thus did not stop her from turning around to the sounds behind her, stalking over to the boy who had shouted the insult.

Oh, yes, directly in front of her, because they shuffled away quickly. She followed the sound and charged the boy, hands straight out in front of her, and knocked one of the princes down hard. She couldn't tell which one, but she didn't care. She was a princess too, and prince or not, she would not tolerate the idignance of his insults.

Ethan started a bit, staring over at Angelina.  Well... that's what you got, raising a girl among gruff soldiers like the ones she'd been around.  The little girl blinked, looking over at the other, surprised.  She huffed, putting her hands on her hips.  "Boys are mean!"

Angelina just smiled, quite proud of herself and following Yume's voice. Her hand sought the air for her shoulder. Even though she could navigate well enough in small areas, it's going passed those areas that become a problem. "Only these boys." she said matter-of-factly, "I know a lot of boys that aren't mean and treat me like a princess, because I am."

Yume giggled, holding her hand and turning.  "Come on!  I'll show you mommy!  And then we can play with my dollies!"  As Ethan watched the girl tugged on Angelina's hand heading happily off to find Hitomi.

~

Allen, meanwhile, had taken Van upstairs to see Gaddes.  Not because of the state the sergeant was in, but simply because they had been friends.  "You might want to question the Basram when you get a chance," he murmured softly, pushing open the door to his bedchambers.

Gaddes had his head turned away, facing the window. His arms were neutrally by his sides, the covers tucked up to his chest. He made no indication that he was awake, or that he'd heard the door open and the two men walk inside.

"Hello, Gaddes," said the king softly, spotting an extra chair and moving it to Gaddes' bedside. He saw Allen do the same, and they both took a seat there. Gaddes still had not torn his eyes away from the window, his eyes looking hollow and glazed over.

Allen looked worriedly at Gaddes, resting a hand on his shoulder softly.  He really did hate to see his lover like this.  Gaddes had always been so full of life, brimming with energy, but now...

The sergeant slowly blinked. Yes, he had heard them come in - in fact, he'd heard them romping up the stairs, the floorboards resounding with the steps of their boots. He didn't feel like visiting, he wanted no one to see him in such a state. The only reason he resigned to it is because he had no choice - since he very well could not stand and walk out of the room.

"Yes, hello." he said quietly, closing his eyes and turning his head to stare up at the ceiling - the plaster of it having made shapes in his imagination to keep his mind sane and occupied. . . he'd done so a million times over by now, bedridden as he was. 

Allen sighed softly, withdrawing his hand numbly.  It hurt, to think of Gaddes like this, so distant so... unfriendly.  And not for the first or last time did he wonder if this was what Gaddes had felt when he'd withdrawn from everyone like he had.  At least... at least he'd been able to get up and go somewhere else.

Van took a deep breath, feeling uncomfortable as it is already. He crossed his arms over his lean chest, black hair falling into his eyes. "The outlying countries to Asturia aren't the only ones we've been having diplomatic relations with." he told Allen more than Gaddes, since the sergeant did not seem to be in the mood for conversation.

"Oh?"  Allen was thankful for the distraction, really, glancing over at Van, arching a brow.  "And what are their reactions?"

"Zaibach," said the king cautiously, "had been forced to disassemble an army as the treaties states. After the great war." He looked to Allen carefully, his eyes showing that he sympathized with the knight. "They cannot aid us in this war. But - they have offered aid in other ways."

Allen blinked slowly, looking at him.  "And...?  What aid shall they give?"  Any would be appreciated, any aid.  Even from Zaibach... and oh how ironic it would be with them helping in a war against Basram.

"Medicinal." said Van simply.

Allen brightened a little.  "Well, we could definitely use that aid."  Especially from such an advanced nation.  The blonde managed just the faintest smile.  The war seemed to be turning steadily in their favor.  

The king leaned toward Allen slightly, his face serious and grave. His hand placed upon the knight's, he said quietly, "They might be able to help Gaddes."

Allen nodded slightly, the chance of it... the thrill, the joy searing his heart.  Ah... to see Gaddes once more act as he had before.  He knew better than to hope it would ever actually return to the way it was before... especially with so few of the original crew there.  But some semblance of it being normal might return.  Gaddes... might react as if he was alive again.

"They bring airships with whole teams of healers," he said, settling back into his chair, back to crossing his arms and staring sternly toward the floor. "Airships that are traveling apothecaries. Hospitals, they call them. They arrive tomorrow afternoon from the south."

"Thank Jechia," breathed Allen softly.  "So many of us are too injured to do anything to defend our country.  Such aid is more than welcome.  Have you told the queen of this?"

Van nodded. "She knows of this news. And of the allies. I've told her everything." he yawned, "Being a king - it's only my duty."

Allen nodded slightly, resting a hand on Van's shoulder at the yawn.  The knight gave a faint smile.  "You should rest, you and Hitomi both.  These are trying times and we can't have either of you worn out."

"It's a thought," he yawned again, standing slowly. "Do you have a room to spare?"

"Thankfully one.  It's nothing extravagant, but know you... you'd probably prefer it that way."  Allen stood, motioning to the door.  "I'll show you."

Van and Hitomi were both very glad for the room, as they had been traveling and meeting with dignitaries for nearly a full day. It was already mid-afternoon, and the two royals slept fitfully upon the guest room bed of the Schezar manor. The queen had made sure to give Yume the dolls her daughter had asked for before retiring to a very welcome nap. 

Angelina had dolls before, but they were back home in the castle she had lived in since she could remember. There were several of them, lying about the rug in the parlor where the little girls sat. The Schezar child listened intently to the princess as she described them to her. She didn't understand really what fair haired and dark haired meant - only that she associated such terms with her Uncle Gaddes, who is dark haired, she was told, and her father who is fair haired.

"So the one with fair hair must be pretty like my father," said Angelina, "And the dark haired one should have a scratchy face."

Yume pouted a little.  "No... they're both pretty!  And they're girls."  The girl held the fair-haired one out to the girl, putting it in her hand.  "She has fair hair," she said proudly, holding out the other one to her.  "And that one has dark hair."  

"My uncle Gaddes has dark hair, my father says so. And people with dark hair have scratchy faces..." said Angelina indignantly.

"Not all of them.  Father doesn't have a scratchy face and he has dark hair."  Again, the girl pouted, looking over at her.

"Well, do you have dark hair or fair hair?" asked the girl impatiently, throwing her a scathing expression.

"Dark hair, of course, like my daddy," she said, looking at the girl.

"Let me see," said Angelina, immediately leaning forward and reaching to feel the girl's face.

Of course, her face was smooth, rounded and soft.  She smiled proudly, holding onto the little dolls.


	37. Wings

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Wings**

Allen had been in his livingroom when Melzin had come by to routinely check up on the soldiers gathered there.  Many of them were getting better--with much relief on Allen's part.  The knight spoke to the healer of the conversations with Van.  "Zaibach's bringing healers as well, so you won't be one of the only ones doing this anymore."  Of course, they appreciated the old man's help immensely, always had.

As always, he never mentioned the Basram soldier.  Let him die, let him starve himself as he so wished.  He wasnt' sure if the healer knew of the news that had been brought about the boy's father and Allen didn't offer up that information, either.

~

 Melzin had been kept quite busy while the war was at somewhat of a standtill. He knew that the peace in Palas would not last, but what little time they had of it was precious. The burden in his heart lightened at the news of the arriving armies, of the airship hospitals that Zaibach was providing along with their technology and healers. It was hard to find any time away from his work - so many were wounded.

The patients under his care were never left suffering, and many of them were thankful for his help, though maimed and dying they might have been. There was one patient he'd been tending to, however, that was not within the immediate vicinity. 

"Hans, I hear, is not in very good condition. Poor lad starvin' himself," said the old healer, "You would do well to show kindness in a time of hate. Despite the troubles around us."

Allen sighed softly, turning his head away.  "I should," he began, trailing off after a moment.  How could he, though?  "I feel pity for him, but even still.  He's said himself that he killed Asturian soldiers.  It might be war, but how can I be kind to him?  I've seen nearly all of my men die.  My closest friends are gone and all because of those damnable weapons they have.  And even if it wasn't him, it was his people that did it."

Melzin gave a heavy sigh, turning away with his bag in tow - he was about to head out the door. "Then you are not the kind hearted knight I once thought you to be." he said sadly.

Allen sighed softly, bowing his head.  Maybe he wasn't.  But he couldn't find it in himself to not feel some contempt for the boy.

So Melzin left to visit the imprisoned Basram soldier. It was not difficult for him to be allowed to do so, as he was older and well respected. The queen had given him permission rather quickly, and now he came down the dungeon steps, looking about him and shifting the bag upon his shoulder.

The guard that was on duty saw him, Melzin quickly explaining his purpose for being there. Once he was let inside the jail cell, he saw the boy before him. The poor lad, once a handsome boy. . . his hair hung in limp strings, his face was sunken and his eyes were hollow. "Poor lad," he said, kneeling down and rifling through his bag, "Let me help you."

There were bruises and scrapes on the pale flesh from where his fellow prisoners--of Asturian blood, of course--had taken it upon themselves to let out their frustrations.  He was bound to the wall as he had been since he'd been brought there, his captors didn't bother undoing his hands when they brought the food.  If he wanted to eat it, he'd let them know.  His strength was failing quickly, especially with the added violence.  

The blonde just barely lifted his head to look at the healer, not saying anything.  He didn't bother to... and he wasn't sure if his throat would work well enough to do so anyhow.

The healer was careful when he treated the boy's wounds, dabbing at cuts and scrapes with a strong smelling alcohol tincture. Gently, he tilted Hans' head back and cleaned the scrapes there on his face. As he worked, he spoke softly to him, even if the other man would not answer him. It seemed important that he know that someone cared for him.

Reaching into his back, he withdrew a cloth wrapped bundle, small. He opened it and picked up a small biscuit from Allen's pantry, handing it to the Basram soldier. "Angelina misses you terribly." said Melzin quietly.

"Die Katzchen?" he asked hoarsely, staring dully at the biscuit.  Of course she would miss him, right?  She was a child, she couldn't know the horrors he had committed.  The boy winced slightly as one of the wounds was treated.

It was obvious, really why it was that he was so sullen.  Not so much the fact that he was here among enemies... but because he had been pushed aside by his father without even a thought.  He was just another casualty, that was all, nothing more.  Of course... he never really should have expected any less.

"Please, eat something," begged the healer softly, nudging the biscuit into Han's pale hands. "That little girl really cares for you, and I don't know if you know how special that is. The only other person she's ever attached herself to like that was her own father and her uncle." Melzin finally took Hans' hand and placed the biscuit into his palm. "She really loves you."

Hans sighed softly, turning his head weakly away.  "Won't see her anyhow," he murmured softly, the biscuit held lightly.

It was sad, really, to see him wasting away in such a manner.  But he didn't really have much to live for.  He wouldn't be able to go home, he was dead to his father.  He likely wouldn't be released into Asturia.  He was, after all, still a soldier of Basram.

"You will," said the old healer sternly, forcing Hans' gaze to look at him. He said again, "You will. I know it, I feel it. And I have never been steered wrong."

"Danke für your kindness," he said softly after a long bout of silence.  He didn't dare hold much hope for it, not at all.  But this man believed it and he could at least humor him for it.

There were no words left to be said for that visit. Melzin decided that he should visit the young man more often, treat his wounds and try to coax him to eat - until there was some way to release him from the prison. Though he was a criminal of war, he was only doing his duty and the healer saw the goodness in this man's heart, though no one would ever have believed him.

And so he came back the next day, bag ready full of supplies and a bundle of light biscuits to feed to the besodden young man.

Hans had been rebound to the wall, his arms above his head, shoulders aching.  The guards had done nothing to disguise the bruises and cuts, the blood that dried on his pale lips.  His breathing was soft, however ragged, the pain in his side having spread to, for the most part, his entire abdomen.  He'd been unable to defend himself against the onslaught, had made no move to do so anyhow.  He hadn't struggled at all.  

He was a lonely, battered, despised young soul who, in his mind, had no one to turn to.  His fair skin was flushed with the fever that rose from the infection of his side wound, his eyes closed.

Melzin wasted no time. Tearing his eyes away from the sight, after taking it in for a good moment longer than he should have, he ran back up the stairs and sought an audience with the queen immediately. His outrage was hardly contained, and as he was usually such a soft spoken man, this surprised Millerna. Well versed in diplomacy and articulate in explaining Hans' medical need, he managed to convince the queen to have him taken out of jail. But as the palace was being used to harbor the wounded from the fallen forts, there was no room.

Without going so far as to seek permission, Melzin had arranged for armored guards to escort the wounded Basram soldier to Schezar manor. As it was being used as a safehouse, there was little room for argument, especially when the royal decree was pressed against Allen's chest as the healer walked by to lead the guards carrying Hans.

Allen was more than surprised when the Basram soldier was carried inside looking like someone had nearly beaten the life out of him.  Of course... Allen wasn't surprised.  He had been in a jail filled with other Asturian prisoners.  "Ah... up the stairs.  There's an empty room," he murmured softly.  He didn't much like the idea of harboring the man, but he didn't have a choice when Millerna's word accompanied it.

"He looks horrible," he said softly to Melzin, shaking his head slightly.

"Does he now," said the healer. He was still suffering residue from his earlier outrage, the lines on his face darkening with anger. "Don't suppose you care too much about that, then?" The man awaited no reply, simply pushed passed the knight and accompanied the soldiers up the stairs. They settled him on the last spare bed the house had, and Melzin was content with himself. He automatically set to work to cleaning Hans' wounds. 

Allen looked at the man as he passed, sighing softly, running a hand through his hair.  He couldn't recall when he'd seen Melzin that irritated.  Of course... Allen had brought it on himself.  The knight settled down in the living room, chin in his palm, staring off.

Hans had woken up briefly as he'd been carried to Allen's household, blinking back at the sunlight, resigning with closing his eyes.  He had no idea this was where Angelina stayed, only aware that this was a far more comfortable place than the prison he'd been in before.

Melzin had been looking after Hans, being the only other person sympathetic towards the man. He had noticed the man beginning to stir - well, perhaps the healer was not the only one that was sympathetic. A quick search about the home while Hans was coming to consciousness, and soon Melzin had Angelina clinging to his robes. The little princess had become terribly giddy with the news, and skipped all the way back to Hans' room.

"Ah, good afternoon, lad." greeted Melzin, gazing down at Angelina as she giggled quietly.

Hans looked weakly up at the healer, thankfully missing the ache in his shoulders and wrists.  He didn't bother speaking, knowing he could hardly get the words out as it was, and instead, nodded.  He looked at the little girl for a long moment, rather surprised.  Why was she here?

"I brought someone who wanted to see you," continued the healer, smiling and crouching down to the little girl's height. He whispered, "He's straight ahead of you, on a bed. Go on and say 'hello'." And Angelina took off running into the room, colliding with the bed. She managed to catch herself by gripping the bedcovers at the last minute. Feeling up the bed, she found Hans' shoulder and managed to lean close to him.

"Hans!" she cried happily.

Hans blinked a bit, a little started by her.  Especially by her enthusiasm.  Of course, she was a child... and she couldn't see the state he was in.  However, he was thinner than before, his skin a little warmer thanks to the fever.  Smatterings of stubble lingered on his chin.

"Katzchen," he murmured softly, looking at her.  It was... good to see her.

"Hans, Hans," she whimpered in her small voice, "I have missed you so much, my beloved." She liked to use that word now, 'beloved', ever since she heard it and then found out what it meant. Her hands touched his shoulder, and with great effort, managed to climb onto the bed and settle herself beside him.

"I love you, Hans." she said, "Please don't ever leave me again." For the brief moment, she sounded far too grown up to be five years old, but no one would ever tell her this - and so she would have never known it.

The young man sighed softly, just the faintest smile tugging on his dry lips.  She really was just too adorable for her own good.  After a moment of watching her through half-closed eyes, the young man turned his gaze to Melzin thankfully.  Melzin had known just what he'd needed; some sort of reassurance that he wasn't left here alone, that he wasn't simply pushed aside.

"I think I'll let you two visit for a while." said Melzin knowingly, giving the young man a grin and closing the door behind him. It was a risk, or would have been thought that way by any other. Although, the healer trusted this man explicitly, even with the vulnerable little Princess Angelina. He simply knew better than the others. Perhaps that could be constituted to his longer years in life. But who really knows?

Hans slipped one arm about the girl loosely, a faint smile still tugging at his lips, even though she couldn't see it.  Maybe this would be what it took for him to actually try and get past his weakness.  When he'd gotten word that his father had cast him aside... he had seen no point to bother living.  Living as a prisoner was no life at all.

"Are you sad, Hans?" she asked quietly, snuggling into his side. Her arm was lazily draped across his middle, and she loosely grasped the fabric of his shirt in her small hands. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Of course I am, Katzchen," he said softly, if not a little hoarsely.  He hadn't spoken much the time he'd been imprisoned... he'd had no reason to.

"I'm glad you're back." she said, smiling fondly. "I was afraid you'd left me forever like my mother. But now that you're back, we can get married."

"When you're older, katzchen."  Of course, that would include him getting over his wounds and illness, as well as her remembering it when she grew.  This had to just be some passing, childish fancy.

"Aren't you a prince?" she asked innocently.

"Me?  Nein... I... am simply a soldier."  What could he say?  He wasn't anyone special, not anymore.

"But - but, I kissed you when you were in a really really really deep sleep. And I'm a princess. And you woke up when I kissed you, and that makes you a prince, just like the story my father tells me." she pouted.

The man cocked his head to the side a little, looking at the girl.  He brushed his fingers weakly through her hair, a soft sigh on his lips.  How to explain it to her?  He was no prince, not at all.

"Well," she began quietly, her tone acquiring somewhat of a sympathetic quality, "I'm not really a princess. But even if you're not really a prince, Hans . . . you're a prince to me."

"Danke, Katzchen," he said softly.  The words meant more to him than she might have known.  Perhaps they would be forgotten in later years--though Hans didn't expect to live very long anyhow--but right now, at that moment... they meant much to him.

~

 While Angelina was very happy to have Hans back, she had new distractions surrounding her. For example, children to play with where she hadn't had the opportunity before. It was truly a liberating experience for such a sheltered little girl, especially a blind one. The Princess of Fanelia, though a year younger than Angelina, took fairly good control over situations when Angelina might do something odd - feeling around, touching things, and being generally careful about where she stepped in new areas. But for the most part, Yume still managed to drag her new friend around by the hand, though she might have stumbled.

At one point, Allen had half-admonished Yume to be more careful with his daughter, as pulling her so roughly by the hand cause Angelina to skin her knee more than once. Sheepishly, Yume agreed, blushing and taking her friend to play outside again. She looked up at the sky, and her mouth hung open as she stared up at the orange and yellow streaks of the sunset.

"Why did we stop?" asked Angelina, one hand reaching her hip as she put on a half-frown. Yume scrunched up her nose, sniffing. 

"The sky looks pretty." she said. Angelina frowned, however.

"That's silly. You can't touch it. How would you know if it's pretty?" asked the blind girl. Yume sighed heavily in defeat, not understanding how someone could be blind in the first place.

"I don't know. It's just pretty. Orange and bright." she answered, but pursed her lips when all she received from Angelina was another look of contempt and confusion. They pressed on passed the fields. Just as they walked carefully passed the first bend of trees, they heard insiduous giggles and snickers coming from the small stream in the forests.

"Poke at it and see if it moves!"  

 The princes, of course.  They were out playing in the streams.  Their pants legs rolled up after Hitomi rebuked them for not doing it a few days ago.  One held a squirming frog in hand, laughing and holding it out towards his brother.

"Mister Mole said you'll get warts if you touch one too long, so hurry up!"

"You touch it!" sneered Keiki, giving his brother a shove on his shoulder. He was already in the middle of the ankle deep running stream, the gooey rocks squishing algae between his toes. He grinned. "Maybe you should kiss it, see if it turns into a princess . . . not as ugly as our little sister!" he shouted the last as he saw Yume and Angelina approach.

"Eeew!  You kiss it!"  The boy laughed, tossing the frog at his brother.  "It can't be as ugly as sissy!"  Of course, this was normal banter between the two of them, especially concerning their sister.  It was generally how boys were, anyway.

"What are you doing?" sneered Yume, pulling Angelina behind her. The look on her face carried one of disdain once she caught sight of the slimy frog that lay placidly in her brother's wet hands. Keiki suddenly grinned evil, taking the frog and going to Angelina. Without a word, he shoved the harmless amphibian into her hands and forced it up to her face.

"You kiss it!" he said acidly.

Seiki laughed with that innocent, childish glee, looking over at his sister.  "Yeah!  You kiss it!  Maybe it'll make you prettier like mommy!"  The boy splashed over to the bank and towards his siblings, staring for a moment at the blind girl behind her.

Angelina squirmed at the touch of something so slimy, feeling the frog writhe in her hands. Despite how she tried to turn her head away, Keiki grabbed her chin strongly and forced her lips upon the wet skin of the poor frog. Yume was already screaming at him.

"Stop it! Stop it!" She said, trying her hardest to push her brother away from her friend. Keiki would not relent, continuing to grin as he made the annoying little blind girl kiss the frog.

Seiki laughed again.  "Keep doing it!" he cried between gleeful giggles.  

Hans frowned from the window, catching sight of it.  His poor little kitten.  And how much it reminded him of his own sister, so far away, likely forbidden to speak of him.  

Seiki was, of course, oblivious to the Basram soldier watching, urging his brother on.

Angelina finally wrenched herself away from the boy's malicious hold, spitting onto the ground and furiously wiping at her mouth. There were, of course, tears at the corner of her eyes, and those too were wiped away. She couldn't let these boys know that they had beaten her. She wasn't beaten, not ever, not by anyone. But Keiki saw anyway. He ignored the frog as it indignantly hopped away.

"Ha ha!!" he laughed horrendously, pointing at the little girl, "She kissed the frog!! Seiki, make her do something else! Rip her dress off. She won't know it. She can't see like us!" Poor Yume was helpless to defend her friend, being so small in body and voice. She did not try hiding her tears, and cried loudly for her mother. All she could do was sit beside Angelina where she had fallen onto the ground - maybe she could stave off her brothers long enough for someone to come to their rescue.

Seiki laughed with his brother, moving to taunt the girl more.  She was blind, what could she do?  And surely no one but stupid little Yume would come to her rescue.  The Basram soldier was injured, he couldn't do anything, right?

Despite it hurting immensely as the wound in his side pulled, as strained, bruised muscles stretched, Hans slipped out of the--thankfully--first story window, stumbling on his feet and wincing at the pain that jolted through him.  It was getting easier to move, though, and he was slowly gaining back his color and strength.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the Basram soldier scooped the little girl up in his arms, startling the other children.  "Katzchen," he said softly, "Ihr Ritter ist zurückgekommen."

"Hans!" she cried out, surprised and elated at the same time. Yume only gasped at his suddenly presence, the man being so tall and intimidating. Keiki took a step backwards towards his brother, stumbling on his own feet as he stared in awe of the man's immense physique - at least, it seemed immense to a six year old boy. He fell down onto his rump, still staring.

"Let her go!" Yume yelled at the soldier. "You let her go right now or I'll tell my mommy!"

Hans looked at the trio of children at his feet, his voice thick with his accent as he spoke to Yume.  "If you cannot protect her from them, then I shall, isn't that right, Die Katzchen?"

Seiki stared, rather frightened, up at the man.  He was... tall.  He was... huge and imposing and frightening and he spoke in a horrendously different language--that was scary itself--that sounded too guttural and militaristic to belong to anyone nice.

"Yes, Hans, yes!" she gladly leaned her head into his neck, kissing the flesh there like she would with her father. To her, now that she was in Hans' arm, the rest of the world was gone. The children were nothing more than distant voices that would never touch her, the feeling of being so high up off the ground in such a protective embrace just so soothing to her. Everything, to her, was forgotten save for her beautiful Hans.

Yume turned on her brothers, a look anger crossing her features, of fierce determination. She will protect her new friend from her fiendish brothers, no matter what cost. No matter what cost!! With a grimace, and a yelp, two perfectly white feathered wings, tiny and insufficient for flight, sprouted from her open back. 

"Stay away from her!" she said again, her wings trembling with trying to keep them erect.

Hans held her close to him, protectively.  The appearance of the wings made him take the slightest step back, especially from such a small child.  But she was doing this in Angelina's honor... it was touching, the friendship that had grown between them.  Hans held the girl safely out of harm's way, the strength and hard curves beginning to come back to them, though he was not really anywhere near as fit as he had been before.

Seiki started, stepping back.  "Sissy!  You're not supposed to!"

"I don't care! Don't ever touch my friend again!" she yelled. Keiki took a step back with his brother too, sneering at her - let her do what she wants. Who cares? She'll get in trouble and they won't. So what did it matter that she was showing her forbidden wings to an outsider?

"She's just a dumb little blind girl! What do you care anyway?" he demanded petulantly.

"Don't listen to them, Katzchen," he murmured softly, holding her close to him still.  

Seiki agreed with his brother, backing away from the girl when she spread her wings, as well as the imposing adult behind her.  In the sunlight his pale hair seemed to almost glow, his fair skin soft, smooth, his strong, but pretty features, calm, almost eerily so.

Keiki grabbed his brother's sleeve, giving him a swift tug backwards and starting off on a run into the forests where they could get away from the intimidating soldier. They disappeared among the trees, and Yume thought she would never be so glad to see them go. Her wings slumped after so much effort in keeping them up. They furled close to her back, and she fell to the ground onto her knees.

 "Ouch," she whimpered, reaching behind her to grab at one wing joint, to massage the pain away. Angelina heard her and whimpered with her - thinking the princes had hurt her and she squirmed in Hans' hold to reach her friend.

"Yume, Yume. They didn't hurt you, did they?" she asked worriedly.

Hans knelt down, settling Angelina on her feet and resting the girl's hand on her friend's small shoulder.  The soldier took a moment to regain himself.  He hadn't moved around that much or that quickly for awhile and it was slightly starting to get to him.  His place wasn't between the two girls.  When he forced back the short wave of dizziness, Hans stood slowly, making to head back towards the manor.

"Hans!!" cried Angelina, her concern still for her friend as her reassuring touches were placed upon Yume's shoulder, though she was very keen with her senses. Hans had moved away from her. She nearly cried, not sure if the boys had run far from her or not and wanted her knight's protection. "Hans, please don't go! Don't leave us here..."

Yume snuggled into her friend fondly, and she heard a gasp from Angelina as the other girl's fingers touched the soft down of her wings. Wonder brimmed in Angelina's heart, feeling the feathers and how beautifully soft and smooth they were. "You - you have wings!"

Hans paused, turning to look over his shoulder at the girl, taking a few steps back to her.  He noticed Yume shying away from him a little... and honestly didn't blame her.  He could see how he might be imposing.  Bt the girl's new finding might take precedence.  He stayed silent, where he was, looking at them.

"Of course I have wings." she said proudly, but they still trembled and shuddered at having stayed so long in a forced position. "Mommy and daddy have wings too." Angelina just blanched, completely awed by what the girl was telling her, and suddenly her expression turned into an untelling wonder. She was friends with a real princess *and* an angel! Without warning, she grabbed the smaller girl in a strong hug before she took off running, practically carrying her little friend with her toward where she thought the house was.

"Hans! Which way is my house?" she asked, hoping she wouldn't have to stop her run. She needed to find her father, to tell him about her new discovery and how absolutely wonderful it was. Yume was taken utterly by surprise, unable to make her wings fade away and straining to stay out of Angelina's grip.

Hans cocked his head to the side a little, looking at the girls.  "Straight ahead, Katzchen."  At least if she left, he could let his wound trouble him the way it wanted to.  He watched them as they ran off, Angelina excited at the discovery.  Indeed... they were beautiful, almost... impressive, even on such a small scale.

Somehow, Angelina managed to find her house. Not just her house, but a way in. One hand was always outstretched, of course, and it was more than once that she'd collided into a wall. Yume tried desperately to keep up with her taller friend's strides, her little wings bouncing with weight as they ran. Reaching the parlor, Angelina's head turning this way and that to pick out any sign of human presence, eventually she just resigned to calling out.

"Father, Father! Come see! Quickly! My friend is an angel!!" Her little voice echoed among the wooden halls of their manor, excitedly lilting in reverberation.

Allen started a bit, lifting his head from the book he was reading at his daughter's call.  The blonde unfolded himself from the chair he sat in, heading to where her voice was coming from.  He paused when he caught sight of the girl and her wings, but he headed over to them anyway, crouching down beside his daughter, offering a soft smile to Yume.

"An angel, indeed... just like her father."

"And my mommy!" said Yume indignantly, looking and acting very much like a princess simply in those few words. Angelina giggled, running her hands over the wings repeatedly and making Yume quiver at the touch - she kept touching ticklish spots. Weakly, she tried pushing the other girl's hands away, but to no avail.

Allen laughed a little, ruffling both girls' hair gently.  "Angelina, stop if she wishes you to, alright?"

The sounds of the past confrontation outside were at the back of his mind, forgotten.  Obviously what had been wrong had been settled.  Of course, he didn't know it was partially because of the Basram soldier.

Hans drug himself to the window he'd dropped himself out of.  It would be easier this way... he wouldn't have to face the others in the house.  With effort, the soldier pulled himself within and onto the floor, hissing softly at the flickers of pain.  He lay on said floor for a few moments, then tugged himself onto the bed.

Angelina nodded to her father's request, though she still didn't stop tracing her hands along the fine bone of the wings. Yume suddenly blushed, looking up to Allen bashfully and pulling on his sleeve. "Um, Sir Allen, sir . . ." she began, slightly embarrassed by her predicament and looking down at the floor.

Allen cocked his head to the side slightly, a small smile on his lips.  "Hm?  What can I do for you?"  He rested a gloved hand gently over hers, looking at her.

Yume blushed terribly, flinching again as Angelina touched another ticklish spot. She leaned forward, her black hair falling over her face as she frowned slightly.

"I - I can't put them back . . ." she whispered.

The blonde man blinked a little, biting down on his bottom lip gently to keep back the smile.  Well, her certainly didn't have any experience with it.  "Perhaps... you should focus on them?  On... putting them back?"

Yume took a deep breath, closing her eyes and wishing them to go back to being invisible... or inside of her - she wasn't really sure how it worked. Her wings twitched, unfurling with her effort and making Angelina gasp in surprise as she felt them extend. They're span really wasn't any longer than Yume was tall, but still, the suddenness of their length was impressive to the blind girl.

Yume groaned and growled to herself, straining and trying hard, but after a few seconds, her wings slumped again, furling close to her body like she was trying to protect them. She sighed helplessly. "I can't . . ."

Allen pursed his lips thoughtfully, looking at her, wracking his brain for some idea.  He had no idea how to deal with such things, how to work wings like that.

"Surely your mother would know...?"

Yume flinched again, and finally lost her temper. Angelina would *not* stop touching her wings, and now it bothered her. She turned on her friend, her wings swinging around her and surprising the blind girl as the air moved quickly with them. 

"Stop it already!" she yelled at her. Angelina's hands retracted suddenly, clutching them close to her chest and pouting slightly. Her friend didn't yell at her before. Cupid bow lips turned into a frown and she couldn't help but sniffle in hurt. On the other hand, with Yume now concentrating on getting her friend to stop touching her wings, the wings finally fell away and faded - leaving feathers all over the floor. 

Allen blinked a little, biting down on his bottom lip.  Well, at least they got the problem of her wings done with.  "Your wings faded," Allen pointed out quietly, hoping to distract Yume enough from her being irritated.  He felt bad for his daughter...

Like any good spoiled princess, Yume finally let out that lacking sneer that had formed in her throat. She barely glanced behind her to take notice of the knight's finding, turning back to Angelina and narrowing her eyes. "Why can't you stop being so weird, sometimes?" she asked impatiently, not even waiting for an answer before she stalked off down the hall and up the stairs to the room she'd been given.

Angelina could only fumble for an answer. It was what she did, to see things - it's all she could do. How could they blame her for something she couldn't help? Why was her wanting to see something so strange to everyone? She stomped her foot, letting out a frustrated whimper. Her face contorted in hurt, her heart breaking.

"Why am I so *weird*?!" she demanded, hoping Yume might hear her from upstairs, but she knew she had already gone. She simply hung her head, then. "Why can't I stop being weird to everybody?"

Allen felt his heart shatter at her pain.  With a suffering sigh, he wrapped his arms gently around her in a gentle hug.  "You can't help this, princess, it's just how you are.  She just doesn't understand.  She doesn't know what it's like.  You're not weird, you're just different and that doesn't mean people will care for you any less.  I still love you, okay?  Nothing will ever change that. You're perfect just the way you are, you don't have to change just because someone thinks you're 'weird.'"

"Oh, father," she cried, clutching herself to him desperately, "I just don't understand. I don't. I never will, will I? Why did I have to be like this? Why was I born different, father? Please, tell me."

"Shh, princess, everything's fine," he whispered softly, hugging her.  It would be... so hard to tell her.  To tell her that her silver ringlets were like his sister's, like her mother's, that the blood that flowed through her veins was purely that of the Schezar family.  "It's my fault you're like this, princess, and I'm so very sorry that it happened.  But... but we can't change it."

"Father?" she questioned, listening to his words and not understanding. Her father would never hurt her, would never intentionally do something to make her heart break, to make her so painfully different from the rest of the world. To her, he was the most gentle person to have ever existed, and continues to be - as evident in the protective hold he had around her, his strong arms embracing her tightly with all the love he could muster.

She sniffed again, disregarding his words almost immediately. Her mind was so plagued with worries now, that she could hardly remember where she was. And she felt very tired from all of the activity. "Father, will you nap with me?" she asked weakly.

Allen tugged her closer, the hug a little tighter.  "O-of course, princess," he whispered, thanking whoever was listening that he could go a little bit longer without telling her.  He would have to tell her eventually, that much he knew.  But it was so hard... and she was so young, after all.  The knight stood, holding her close.  "Do you want to nap with Uncle Gaddes, too?"  He wasn't sure Gaddes would be up to it, but he couldn't simply not offer it.

Uncle Gaddes, though he disciplined her much more than her father ever did, was also one of those gentle beings that would never hurt her. She couldn't help but nod against her father's cheek. Planting little kisses upon his face, some tears managed to fall from her blind eyes and splash upon him - but she hardly noticed.

Allen brushed away her tears gently, turning and heading up to the room he shared with Gaddes.  He slipped inside quietly, glancing at his lover, hurt, as always, to see the lack of life in him.  He kept hoping that he'd open the door and Gaddes would turn and smile at him like he used to.  But Allen didn't see that happening soon enough.  If there could just be some semblance of the old Gaddes, he would be happy.  They rarely talked anymore, especially not the touching, deep conversations they once had and Allen found himself sorely missing them.

Angelina was placed upon the bed gently, and she carefully crawled toward where she heard her uncle breathing gently. Her hand brushed his, and the sight of the little girl actually made Gaddes' expression soften. His eyebrows raised slightly, and he even managed a weak smile at her innocent beauty.

"Oh," he whispered, taking her hand and having her settle along side of his prone form, "How's my sweet angel?" If there was one gift that Angelina had, it was that she made most everyone around her automatically cheer up, no matter what sort of stupor they might have been in - apparently.

Allen looked at Gaddes, watching as the faint smile lingered and he moved over to Angelina's other side quietly, sliding off his boots and sitting on the edge.  "Tell him what you found, mm, princess?"  He stroked her hair gently, smiling.

"Wings!" she said automatically, despite the hurt that Yume had caused - it did not lesson her excitement in their discovery. "Princess Yume has wings." Gaddes briefly looked at Allen, a knowing smile playing across his lips and just barely managing a grin. His arm tightened fondly around his surrogate daughter.

"Oh, is that so?" he asked.

Allen curled a little bit of the girl's hair in his fingers, his heart soaring when Gaddes' lips curved in a smile.  A smile directed at him, no less.  He could only hope he'd see more of it.  Allen himself smiled softly, fondly over at his lover.  His feelings hadn't and wouldn't change, no matter how crippled Gaddes was.  But for now it seemed like Gaddes had forgotten his state.  If even for a little.

"Yes, oh, yes, Uncle Gaddes! They were so very soft! Softer than anything I've ever felt! Softer than powder!" answered Angelina excitedly, bouncing a little and making Gaddes wince with the movement. He blinked away the tears that stung his eyes, his smile gone from his face but still detectable in his tone.

"That wonderful, princess," he strained.

Allen reached over, stroking Gaddes' hair softly.  "Princess, honey, why don't you rest, hm?  I think Uncle Gaddes is tired, too."  The blonde kissed his daughter's forehead gently, looking at his lover sympathetically, though a smile lingered on his lips.

As if on cue, Angelina yawned and tightly snuggled in between her father and uncle. Idly she tried kicking off her little black shoes, managing to get one off only halfway before she had already fallen asleep. Gaddes gazed at her fondly, the tears still in his eyes. He had wanted to be there for her, to protect her and raise her with Allen. But, oh, how things change, and it tore away at his heart.

Allen quietly rid her of her shoes, then settled down at her back, looking over at Gaddes.  He gingerly wiped away the older man's tears, kissing his cheek softly.  "She loves you just as much as I do," he whispered softly to the brunette, looking at him fondly.

Gaddes batted his hand away, weakly but successfully. Then he turned his head once more to the window, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. His voice was still hoarse with lack of use, and now wracked with emotions that plagued him. 

"Please, don't." he choked softly, "It's painful enough as it is."

Allen blinked, drawing back his hand slowly.  The words, the actions stung him, but he said nothing.  He didn't want to burden Gaddes with that, not now... especially not now.  Instead, the blonde curled up at the girl's back, resting his head on the pillow, one arm draped protectively around her. The silence in the room felt cold like a fog, like a silent mist gliding over the moors. The only sounds that could be heard were that of the house creaking when the wind blew outside, the shutters sometimes rattling against the outer walls, or the soft breathing coming from the little angel tucked in between two grown men.

It was after a long moment of this thick, frozen silence that Gaddes finally spoke again. "I should have died that day," he whispered. Tears dripped onto the pillow, finally, after so many days of repressing them - they flowed like rivers.

Allen tensed a bit, looking over at the man.  He wanted to hug him, to brush away his tears, but... but Gaddes wouldn't want that, would he?  "No," he whispered softly, staring at Gaddes.  "No... no, you shouldn't."  If Gaddes had died... Allen couldn't have predicted what he'd have done.  Likely enough, he wouldn't have lasted very long afterwards.

The soldier swallowed, the remorse in him filling his soul. His protective arm around little Angelina tightened, holding the doll-like figure close to him. She did not stir, but merely snuggled more closely to his warmth. "What kind of life - is this? I should never have been taken from battle. Death on the field has more honor than . . . than *this*." he practically hissed the last word, pressing his head into the pillow and screwing his eyes shut. It was so painful - so painful. The people he loved and cared about all going on without him, while he was in a bed, and unable to join them. What was he to do now?

"Gaddes, please... don't be like this.  I still love you no matter what happens, I don't care that you're like this.  It would hurt so much more if you weren't here, if you had died.  But you're just so... void of energy or emotion anymore.  It's not right... you don't deserve this.  It just... it isn't fair."  Allen reached up a shaking hand, wiping at his own tears, looking at the brunette that had been there for his troubles.  And now... now he could do nothing for Gaddes.  And it hurt so much...

The embarrassment and humiliation in him swelled. He didn't care - he didn't understand. His legs had already begun to shrink, the muscles growing smaller and useless with each day that passed because they weren't being used. Allen didn't understand how horrible and humiliating it was to be only  half of a man, to have someone help you to a chamber pot, to change the sheets of your bed when you didn't realize that you've soiled yourself, to be totally out of control of your body. Gaddes gritted his teeth.

"Get Angelina out of here," he breathed, his tone dangerously low, "I don't want her with me like this."

Allen sighed softly, vainly fighting back the tears in his own eyes.  He gathered the girl into his arms, biting back the urge to say something more.  "Do you want me to come back?" he asked softly, honestly rather frightened of the answer.  If Gaddes wanted someone there with him, than Allen would willingly be there.  But if he didn't... if he shunned Allen more, it would grieve the knight even more.

"I don't care," Gaddes seethed quietly. All he really wanted was to spare Angelina the grief of his current state. He couldn't bear to see her, if it only made him regret that he could no longer be with her, raise her, and love her like he'd wanted to.

Allen bit down on his bottom lip, standing and turning to go, sliding quickly out of the door, shutting it behind him.  He held the girl close to him, leaning against the wall, bowing his head.  It hurt so much to hear the anger and frustration and grief in his lover's voice, to know that Gaddes wished he'd... died out there.  "It isn't right," he whispered softly to no one, his voice quivering, wiping away a few tears with a shaking hand.  Gaddes didn't deserve this.  Of all the people Allen could think of to deserve such a thing, it couldn't ever be Gaddes.  "Why won't you let me help you?"


	38. A Sergeant's Desperate Measures

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**A Sergeant's Desperate Measures**

Gaddes barely noticed that Allen had gone, only feeling a slight sting in his heart when the princess was taken back to her own room, her lovely warmth torn away from him - just like everything was eventually torn away from him. Pride, dignity, self-respect - all of it was gone. What was the point of living anymore if he could no longer even live in peace and dignity?

Allen shied away from the room for awhile, until dinner had been fixed and he, like usual, took it to Gaddes.  He pushed the door open gently, not at all having forgotten the earlier occurrence.  "Gaddes," he said softly, looking in, "I brought you dinner.  You should eat..."

It wasn't often that you would catch the happy-go-lucky soldier sneer, but he did, and he did it well. Fists at his sides, and his jaw clenched automatically at the sound of Allen's voice. He nearly bared his teeth, in complete disdain of the prospect of eating anything.

"Why?" he asked bitterly, "All I do is end up *soiling* myself."

"Gaddes, please, just... eat.  You need to keep your strength up.  Maybe you'll get better if you do."  Allen was hopeful.  He could only hope it was true.  "I worry about you when you're like this, when you get so frustrated with it.  I can understand, Gaddes. But... when I went blind, I had you and Celena to help me.  Can't you let me help you, this time?"

"Stop being such a fag." fumed the soldier irritably. He turned his head away, staring out the darkened window again, feeling sick of watching Allen and his pathetic attempts to make him feel better. The world should just end - right now. Everything should just be destroyed and then maybe they could finally be happy in the after-life. Gods, he should have died . . .

Allen was silent, staring at him, shocked.  He... loved Gaddes.  Gaddes had said those very words back to him so many times, and now this...

For a long moment, Allen did nothing.  Then he, vainly biting back his pained tears, throwing the tray of food at the other with an angry growl.  "Hell!  See if I bloody help you again, you ungrateful bastard!"  He turned sharply, tears welling up in his eyes, hands fisted at his sides.  He didn't care that others in the manor could hear him yell, could hear him as he stormed outside and slammed the door.  "Let yourself waste away, for all I care," he murmured shakily, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled over his pale cheeks, "you obviously don't."  

The tray of food narrowly missed Gaddes, hitting the floor just over the side of the bed. A bowl of soup managed to slide of the slick surface and land squarely on his chest, however, and soaking him sufficiently with tomato cream broth. Wonderful. And he still couldn't do a damn this about it, except yell, of course.

"Goddamn it, you crazy son of a bitch!" He screamed at the door, "If you cared, you'd understand! I should have died! I should have *died* in battle! You took away my dignity! My pride! Go rot in hell!"

"Just shut the fuck up!  I'm tired of your goddamned whining alright!?  If you wanted to die that bad, you'd do it yourself!"  The knight slammed his heel into the door for emphasis, well-aware, of the eyes upon him as he descended the stairs, angrily refused any food that was offered to him, and stalked towards the front door.  He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe at the tears that rolled over his cheeks, choking on a sob, his shoulders shaking as he slipped outside.

~

The night was dank and very dark - the sky being overcast and blocking out the light of the mystic moon and it's sister white moon. The air was heavy with moisture, and the smell of the sea was strong among the trees of the forests near the Schezar manor. Oddly, creatures did not disturb the silence, nor stir among the underbrush and foliage floor. All except the lone cricket that played it's shrill tune in the darkness of the woods.

Allen crouched down in the fields he knew so well... or where the fields should have been.  He couldn't see, but for now, he didn't care.  Gaddes... Gaddes had to hate him, right?  After he'd gotten so angry at him, after he hadn't been understanding of how much all of this was hurting Gaddes.

The knight sobbed, slipping to his knees in the middle of the forest, sobbing, wrapping his arms about his lithe, shaking frame.  "I'm sorry," he whispered over and over, only wishing he could have said it to Gaddes.  He didn't know how far in he'd gotten, nor the way back.  But... it didn't matter at the moment.

The darkness encroached the vicinity in which Allen sat, uncaring for any visitors, unkind to the living. It was a cold shrill thing that enveloped and froze the very heart of a human being, unforgiving and unrelenting. Naught more than an hour went by before such unrelenting stillness was finally disturbed, by a man's frantic and hurried footsteps...

Running . . . 

Riden ran as fast as he possibly could, tripping over a root and rolling on the ground before he continued. He needed to find the boss. Oh, gods, it was awful - the blood - all the blood.

"Boss!!!!" Riden practically screamed into the forest, startling whatever wildlife might have been taking refuge among the trees and sent them off flying into the night. "Boss! Boss! Where are you? Boss!!" Allen lifted his head a little... but he couldn't see him.  It was Riden, he was frantic about something.  But... 

The blonde, palmed his tears with a shaking hand, turning his head towards the voice.  "What is it?" he called shakily, standing.  He'd trust Riden to find him... since he couldn't easily find the other man.

Turning his head to the call, Riden was thankful for that moment that Allen had not gone far into the forest. His heart beat wildly like a drum, his bones chilled to the core and not from the weather. He stumbled over to the knight rapidly, grabbing at his hands and pulling him immediately with him.

"You've got to come! You've got to! We need to help Gaddes! Boss, he . . ." but he gasped, trying to catch his breath from all the running, meanwhile still desperately trying to maintain momentum as they ran back to the house.

Allen tensed, going with him, panic fluttering in his heart.  Oh, Gods...

"What?  What's going on!?"  The knight let himself be led by the small man, his eyes widening slightly behind his glasses.

Just as they were approaching the house, Kio and Pyle were carrying Gaddes outside on a stretcher. A farmer's wagon awaited in the courtyard, hastily borrowed from one of the villagers nearby. Though they tried to be careful because of the soldier's tender back, they still hurried. Their panic was obvious once the lights from inside the house hit the prone form of Gaddes. The sheets across him were deeply stained in blood. His arm hung over the side of the stretcher, the skin barely held together as the gash from wrist to elbow was deep to the bone.

Allen froze, his eyes widening.  Oh... oh God.  He clasped a hand over his mouth, staring.  "I... no," he whispered hoarsely, feeling tears well up in his eyes again.  He looked... he looked so pale lying there, so... cold.  Panic rose.  "Is... is he...?"  

Riden continued pulling on Allen's sleeve, even though the knight stumbled behind him, his strides eventually becoming irregular and sluggish. "Come on, boss!" pleaded the little soldier. "Please, you're the only one who can help him!" He wasn't sure if that was true, but they pressed on nonetheless.

Kio and Pyle had already loaded the bleeding Gaddes onto the back of the wagon, as they were staring off anxiously toward their approaching commander. This was a situation beyond what they could ever have imagined to experience. It was - simply unreal.

"Jechia," he whispered softly, utterly astonished, "my... it's my fault."  His voice and slender frame shook, staring at Gaddes.  If he hadn't left him there... if he hadn't gotten so angry...

Gaddes was going to die, wasn't he?  And it would all be Allen's fault.

Oruto was driving the wagon, yelling at Riden to hurry up. All the little guy could do was drag Allen behind him, but the resistance he put on was terrible. Somehow they finally made it, and Riden practically shoved Allen onto the back of the wagon where Kio and Pyle carefully steadied Gaddes on the stretcher. No one looked at Allen. Kio was hastily wrapping  a piece of cloth torn from his own shirt over the large gash on his sergeant's arm. The wagon took off down the road and Riden jumped into the back. He, too, did not look at Allen.

There was no honor in this death. All of them knew that. They had heard the shouts that both men had emitted upstairs. They were well aware of Gaddes' pleas to leave him on the battlefield the day he was shot, had taken him anyway because they were thinking about their commander. Look where such sympathy has brought them now. All Gaddes wished for was death, and all Allen wanted was to keep Gaddes alive, no matter what state it might be. Both were selfish, either way you look at it.

Allen was silent, his head deeply bowed.  He wouldn't look at Gaddes he couldn't bear it.  If Gaddes had wanted his death... the blonde tucked his arms close to him, hardly aware of the trek to the Zaibach infirmaries.  What could he do for Gaddes?  The man wanted to die, Allen and the others had held him back from that and now he was trying to take it.  It hurt to think that the other man would want such a thing...

But Allen had told him to do it himself.

All his fault.

The wind was bitterly chill as they rode up to the airship port on the mountainside, just north of Palas and overlooking the oceans. It was night, it was overcast - and everything was extremely dark if not for the single lantern that hung from a pole on the farmer's wagon. The Zaibach infirmaries were once small fortresses, converted to hospitals for the purpose of aftermath in a war. Mainly the great war, and they had retained them ever since. They were immense floating castles docked in the port, with lifts to quickly carry several people at a time directly into the ship.

Zaibach's technology was extremely scientific and electrical. Kio and Pyle carried Gaddes on the stretcher down the blue lit halls of the hospital. It wasn't before long that Zaibach doctors dressed in long white robes were alerted to their presence. They always worked, even in the dead of night. Gaddes was placed on a gurney and quickly taken away from the soldiers without so much as a word. All they could do was watch them wheel away their sergeant in hopes that his life might be spared.

Allen didn't raise his gaze.  He kept berating himself, unable to stop blaming himself.  Did Gaddes hate him?  Did he really want to die that much?  If he died... if he died, Allen wouldn't know what to do, what he could do for himself.  Without Gaddes... he wouldn't have lasted through the loss of Celena.  But who would guide him through Gaddes' death, if it happened?  

 The blonde, stifled the harsh sob that rose with a gloved hand, fighting back the tears.  

All they had left to do was wait in the unkind hallways of the infirmary. Oruto quietly taking a place beside Kio, both turning their gazes away from their commander and making sure to keep their distance. Even poor, sympathetic Pyle couldn't bring himself to be near the knight. All of them knew exactly who to blame for this tragedy should Gaddes' wish come true, and their hearts were unforgiving if they lost their friend.

Riden was the only one who stayed beside Allen. He and the knight were closest in age, peers, friends even. But the little soldier felt so much sorrow, it was just so foreign to his heart. He was a thief, yes, but he could never maliciously hurt someone. As a thief, he stole for the greater good but never brought it upon himself to harm anyone. No one, not even Riden, could bring themselves to speak to Allen. 

The blonde closed his eyes tightly, his back turned to the others.  He let the tears fall, the only sound in the sterile room being that of his stifled sobs, his harsh breathing.  Even if no one else blamed him--which he'd highly doubt was true--he couldn't do anything but blame himself.  He'd told him to do it, he'd given him the means to do it.

Riden cast a nervous glance to the others, who all looked up briefly at the sound of Allen's sobs before turning away. The little soldier placed a gentle hand on Allen's trembling shoulder, but it was Oruto who spoke, his voice full of bitterness and scorn.

"Why the hell are you crying?" Oruto asked darkly.

Allen froze at the words, more than startled.  But of course... Gaddes had been among them long before him.  He'd always been the odd one among all of them.  They would sooner shun him than Gaddes, it was only right.  They had formed a brotherhood before Allen had ever gotten there.  But of course... after serving beside them, after having them so close for so long, he'd pretty much forgotten that.  Their loyalty would go to Gaddes first.

It was only right.  

Allen jerked his shoulder away from Riden's touch, his heart and eyes both stinging.  The knight stood shakily, moving a little bit away from the soldiers.  He didn't belong here... but he couldn't just leave.

Riden frowned and retracted his hand quickly, staring down at the floor with tears threatening to spill. It was just so horrible, that it didn't seem quite real yet. Before anyone could do anything, Oruto jumped to his feet, bounded onto Allen, plucking a throwing knife from his belt and shoving the knight against the metallic wall. His arm firmly braced across Allen's throat, the knife point dangerously close to his flesh, Oruto seethed. Several harsh protests came from Pyle and Kio. Riden could only stare in shock.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you now? Mm?" breathed the soldier angrily, "One good reason why I shouldn't grant you death after what you've done to our Sarge?"

Allen didn't have time to react before he collided with the wall.  He'd never had that cold, angry glare turned his way.  He'd never been threatened like this, not by Oruto.  For a long moment, Allen worked on calming himself enough, took the time to stare at the older man, tearing eyes widened at the sudden force.

Allen closed his eyes slightly, his voice soft, trembling.  "I don't deserve it," he whispered softly. his own pain, anger at himself, his frustration leaking through.  "I deserve so much worse..."  

Gaddes didn't deserve this.  He didn't deserve any of this, but Allen...

Allen was branded a holy knight, but he could find nothing holy about himself.  He'd been charred from the very day he lay eyes upon the princess.  From then, his honor had been tarnished... and it only seemed to rust more and more as time went.  His daughter called him a knight... but he didn't deserve that title.

With more strength than intended, Oruto threw the knight onto the floor. A horrific growl escaped him, an evil sneer of complete and utter disgust on his lips. He ignored the crunch of bone as Allen hit the floor, not caring what the knight ever did with himself from that day on. Oruto would stay only for his friend. If he lived, so be it. If he died, he would forever leave the services to the Asturian army. It was tiring, and he had no patience left to defend a dying country.

Allen winced, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from crying out.  His shoulder ached where he'd fallen, but he didn't move to pick himself up.  These men... they were such good people.  And under his lead, so many had died, they'd watched their friends fall and pass.  Those deaths... they were his fault too, weren't they?

The knight ducked his head, narrow shoulders shaking gently.  In the end, he was just another aristocrat to them, wasn't he?  

"B-Boss?" whispered Riden from somewhere next to Allen's ear. He had a hand poised over the fallen man, ready to give him that reassuring touch, to help him to his feet. To do anything to distract himself from this nightmarish catastrophe. Finally he relented, and lay his hand upon the knight's unwounded shoulder. "Are you alright, boss?"

"Just go," he breathed, quivering, not looking up at him.  Riden's concern was touching... even if Allen knew that it was because these men... were so much better than he was.  "Worry about him, not me."  

Gaddes didn't care what happened to him, right?  Well... he'd just have to make sure Gaddes got through this.  And then Allen would resign from the knighthood and his services to his country.  And when Basram came to face them, he would stay back... among his own kind.

Surprisingly enough, Riden took a stand in his own defense. He steeled himself up some courage, and with all the determination he could muster, he said straight out. "No. I won't go." It seemed as if that would be the only thing he would be able to say - but he helped the knight sit up, despite Allen fighting him, took him firmly by the shoulders and looked at him straight in his bespectacled eyes. 

"I'll worry about you as much as I worry about the Sarge." Even as he said this, the other three were already starting to get up and leave. Kio, even the big soldier - was leaving Riden to tend to the commander. Sympathetic Pyle already turned his back and started shuffling away slowly, his head hanging deeply. Oruto cast one last scathing glance over his shoulder before he, too, left them. Riden and Allen were the only two that remained.

Allen bowed his head, long hair draping over his shoulders.  "You four... you've always been better men than me, you always will be.  All of this... it happened because of me, it's my fault, I don't deserve your concern.  Y-you've lost so many because I haven't led you correctly.  I'm just... I'm just an aristocrat.  I don't belong here.  If I'd never been here, Gaddes would be fine, everyone would still be alive..."

Riden didn't think to question him. Already as the other three walked away, he felt the weight of responsibility press upon him. It made him choke a bit, made him stifle a sob, scrunch his nose in an attempt to keep himself from sniffling too loudly. His embrace was quick, strong, and once he held on he never let go of Allen, squeezing tight across the other's shoulder, and pressing his cheek into the knight's golden locks.

"You can't give up. You can't." pleaded the little soldier sadly.

"Why?  Gaddes is going to die because of me and then what will I have?  A blind daughter who clings more to a Basram soldier and a ruined name.  What's left of those who served beside me can't stand the sight of me... and you're just too good a man to hate me."  Allen reached up a shaking hand to brush at his own tears.  He... didn't deserve to cry over this.

Shuffling white robes could be heard scuffing the ground at a hurried pace. It was a female doctor, well groomed and very pristine in her robes. Square rimmed glasses were placed precariously on the bridge of her nose, and she looked down at the huddle men upon the floor. 

"You brought in the Asturian soldier?" she asked coldly, all business and no pleasure. Riden pulled back quickly out of the embrace, falling onto his bum as he stared up at the doctor in surprise. Allen turned his gaze towards her, wiping at his eyes with the back of his gloved hands.  He could only nod, looking at the woman, the ache in his shoulder nothing to the dread that gnawed at him.

"Both of you need to come with me quickly. Do either of you know what blood types you are?" she asked quickly, already shuffling back down the hall the way she had come. "I'd like to make this go as quickly as possible. We haven't much time."

"Ah?"  Allen blinked a bit, shaking his head.  "No... not at all."  The knight slowly stood, pulling Riden with him, starting to head after the woman.

"As I feared . . ." sighed the woman doctor arrogantly, as if to say that she should have known backward countries like Asturia would never know such simple things as blood types. She led Allen and Riden into a room with oddly reclined padded chairs. They forced the legs to be elevated and bent while at the same time made you somewhat reclined and half-sitting up. The doctor hastily directed them to sit in two chairs next to each other. Other nurses were working as per the doctor's orders. 

 It all went by very fast. Both Riden and Allen were nearly pushed onto the chairs, not strapped in nor entirely uncomfortable. Strange clear bags were set on poles below where they sat, and pretty soon, a needle was jammed into their arms.

Allen winced a bit at the needle, looking at the nurse that had inserted it.  The knight felt a little odd as he watched the blood rise through the clear tube and into the bag.  This was so much different than bleeding from a wound.  "What... were you talking about, blood type?"  

A nurse brought a sample of Allen's blood that had been poured into a vile connected to the plastic tube attached to his arm. She handed it to the doctor, who was already preparing many electronic devices that Riden and Allen simply could not comprehend. The drop of Allen's blood was taken from the vile, and promptly examined through a large glass like instrument that was connected to a swirling plasma screen.

Foreign symbols came up, and the doctor shook her head. She took a drop of a vile similar to Allen's , this one holding Riden's blood. After a second or two of analysis, the doctor snapped her fingers and pointed to Riden. "That one," she said, "He matches." Riden's eyes widened, already scared about himself bleeding into a strange clear bag, watching as it filled and bulged with his precious blood. The nurse worked quickly to close off the bag, seal Riden's puncture wound from the needle with gauze, and sent the bag off with another nurse with instructions to transfuse it to the Asturian soldier.

The moment Riden tried to stand, he looked around, felt his head a bit and said, "I don't feel so good." Then he promptly collapsed onto the floor.

Allen started a bit, looking at Riden.  "Riden!?"  The blonde slipped from the chair, moving over to the other man, kneeling down, resting a hand on his shoulder.  He looked over at the doctor warily, narrowing his eyes a little.  He didn't understand what they had done, why they were taking the blood.

One of the nurses quickly caught the tube that had been attached to Allen's arm before it sprayed the fresh blood all over the place, sealed it and took it to be stored. A male nurse and the female doctor hastily worked to pick up Riden and put him back into the reclining chair. The movement made the small soldier rouse a bit, his eyes fluttering slightly as a cookie was shoved into his mouth. Half awake, but always loving cookies, he bit into the sweet pastry and chewed it like a fatigued cow.

"Try not to move for a while, sir." said the male nurse, placing a cup of juice on the table next to Riden's reclining chair. He made a move to pick Allen up off the floor as well, as he noted Allen beginning to get a bit dizzy, and settled him back into his own chair.

Allen frowned a little.  He knew about getting dizzy because of blood loss, but he still didn't understand really why they'd taken the blood from them.  And how a cookie would help.  Zaibach was here to help them, so they wouldn't do anything that would harm them, or so he hoped.

"B-Boss..." said Riden sleepily around his mouthful of cookie, "What's going on?"

"I... don't know.  I'm just as lost," he said softly, leaning back in the chair  they'd put him back in.  He felt a little tired, though nowhere near as bad as Riden.

"Okay, now that the whirlwind is over," said the Zaibach doctor in her thick accent, "I guess I should explain." She stepped over to Allen, giving him a cookie and cup of juice as well. "Drink that. It will help with your dizziness."

Allen nodded slightly, taking the juice and nibbling on the cookie idly.  He forced himself to listen.  This obviously had something to do with Gaddes, after all.

"Your friend has lost a lot of blood," began the doctor, "And we needed someone who matched his blood type to give him some more. Your little friend over there," she indicated Riden, who had now hungrily finished his cookie and was now sipping at the grape juice he'd been given, "matched perfectly and we were able to transfuse his blood into your other friend. Clear, yes?"

"Ah...  for the most part, yes."  He felt... stupid the way she talked to him, like he was supposed to understand these things she spoke of.  The general idea he understood, but why they had to have certain types of blood was beyond him.

"Good," she nodded, her expression really  never changing from the arrogant stoicism she had approached them with initially. Her hair was tightly gathered in a bun on the back of her head, and it seemed that all the tenseness in this woman's personality ended with that hairstyle. "Another problem was found, of course - your friend's spinal injury . . . "

Allen sighed softly, shaking his head.  "Yes...?  What of it?"  Allen's voice quieted as he was reminded of it, of his friend's paralysis.

Again, she continued in that same uncaring, professional tone, "Well, it would seem it is more than a week old and severely aggravated. Otherwise, we would have been able to completely reverse this." Her voice held a quality to it that seemed almost accusing, "Since we are brought here for the war effort ensuing between the allies and Basram, we will do what we can to help the soldiers of all the countries. But I'm afraid your friend might never walk normally again . . ."

Allen sighed softly, bowing his head.  There went the hope that Gaddes would return the way he'd been before.  Allen couldn't help but wince slightly at the tone her voice took.  He's had all too much accusing lately, from himself and others.

"It is not the only injury of it's kind that we have seen here in the infirmaries." she continued, going over to Riden and nudging him away. "You must stay awake, little soldier." she admonished quietly, turning her gaze back to Allen whom she knew was listening intently. "Basram had been developing their weapons for ten years. Only yesterday when our floating infirmaries arrived did we receive a multitude of injuries those weapons had inflicted upon your countries soldiers. And the soldiers of the allied countries. With therapy, perhaps they can walk again with aids. There is still hope for your soldier, Sir Schezar."

Sir.  He didn't deserve that title, not after everything that had happened.  The blonde sighed a little, inclining his head to the woman.  "Then I put my faith in you."  What little he had left, what little hope lingered he gave to them.


	39. Decisions and Reconcile

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Decisions and Reconcile**

 The night dragged on, cold and quiet within the enclosed blue lit halls of the Zaibach fortress. Medication was in good source in Zaibach, so there was not the usual moans of agony coming from any of the rooms along the halls - patients slept fitfully here, in peace and painless. Gaddes, too, slept painlessly for the first time in two long weeks. His arm was mended and bandaged, as was his middle. They had performed reconstructive surgery on his spine, and so now he had two metal plates lined up along the inside of his spinal column. It would probably leave very prominent scars. Not that he would care. There was a chair with wheels in his room, engineered by Zaibach doctors of course, should he choose to want to leave his bed. 

 Riden and Allen had been given a room to share while they slept off their nausea after donating blood. Riden was in a very deep sleep, even as the morning came. There were no windows to tell them of the daylight in this place, only the passage of time to weigh down upon them.

Allen slept silently, rather calmly.  His anxiety throughout the day had left him weary.  He awoke before Riden and shakily stood from where he rested, wandering quietly about the room.  Everything here was so foreign, so cold and mechanical.  But even still, they had helped Gaddes... they had done more for him than Allen ever could have.

"Sir Allen?" spoke a voice thick with a Zaibach accent. The nurse, male, poked his head into the room, his hand still on the door hand. "Oh, good. I've found you awake. Your soldier - Gaddes, I believe - he has been asking for you. If you would like to see him, please just follow me."

Allen couldn't begin to fathom just why Gaddes would want to see him, unless it had to do with bickering more.  But after all Gaddes had been through, Allen couldn't deny him this.  The blonde, glanced at Riden for a moment, then nodded to the nurse, nudging his glasses up on his nose, walking over to him.  "Lead the way, please..."

It was a long distance down several different hallways, eventually leading him to the room. The nurse opened the door to reveal Gaddes sitting comfortably in the chair that seemed to have been - made for him. It was not the rickety wooden things with the straight backs and rusted wheels that was so used in Asturia by the elderly and crippled. This chair - molded to Gaddes' sitting frame, was metallic, the wheels slanted and made of an odd material that Allen could only remember seeing on the Mystic Moon.

Gaddes looked up from trying out the chair he'd been given, looking to Allen, and his chest filled with sorrow. "Allen . . ." he said, not knowing how else to possibly start a conversation with the knight, not after what he'd tried to do the night before... with everything.

Allen paused in the doorway for a moment, looking at the other man.  After what had been said by Gaddes and he, by Oruto, the things he'd said to Riden before the doctor had shown up...

Allen bowed his head slightly, his voice whisper-soft, "I'm sorry."

"Come here, Allen." beckoned the soldier, holding his arms out to him and trying to push passed all the bitterness and frustration he'd been through - if he could just embrace his lover, his friend, maybe all of it would be right again. So he couldn't walk, so what? He'd been given another chance at life, and given a tool that would help with that chance. "Please?"

Allen sighed, walking over to him.  The blond paused, looking at his friend for a long moment, tugging off a glove and brushing his bare thumb against the brunette's cheek.  "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered, his voice quivering a little.  Blue eyes locked with Gaddes' for a long moment before he embraced the other man, closing his eyes and burying his face in his shoulder.

"I'm the one that should be sorry," cried Gaddes, barely noticing the nurse shutting the door to give them privacy, or the tears that silently slipped over his cheeks. His stubble was gone, as a nurse had come earlier in the morning and shaved him courteously. His arms were tight across the knight's shoulder, clutching him. "I'm - so sorry for all the shit I put you through. Not once did I think about you, or Angelina. It was . . . gods, it's just so hard. When you're stuck in a bed. But look - look what they gave me. . ." He indicated the new chair he sat in, "I can move again, at least around - not in a bed for the rest of my life. I could never live like that. You understand, don't you?"

Allen nodded, hugging him tightly.  "I wasn't thinking about you... I'm so sorry, I really am.  I just kept thinking about how much I wanted to see you smile again, I didn't consider how much it would hurt you to be like that.  We... we both screwed up, but... but it's okay now, right?"

"Yeah, we both screwed up," agreed a tearful Gaddes, pressing his cheek into Allen's hair, "But you're right. It's okay now. We'll be okay. I won't do something stupid, I promise. I just want to be with you and Angelina." With that, he pulled back and planted a kiss full of warmth and compassion right on Allen's lips, cupping the knight's face tenderly and closing his eyes to the sweetness of it.

Allen smiled gently against the kiss, returning it in kind.  One hand cupped the brunette's neck gently, his eyes closing.  "I love you so much," he whispered softly.

~

 It took Gaddes no more than a week to recover under Zaibach's tender care. It was thoroughly surprising that a country that was once to stricken with the thirst of war could be so accommodating, helpful, and life saving. Truly amazing. A therapist from Zaibach had been commissioned for Gaddes, at no cost, though Allen insisted that he would pay for whatever expenses were necessary. Gaddes loved it when Allen came to his rescue like that. And now, Gaddes had found himself in a new situation. He'd been briefly taught how to use his new chair, though it didn't necessarily take a brain surgeon to figure it out. It was getting in and out of it that seemed troublesome.

He'd also been warned about stairs, rocky places, gravel, and generally uneven ground for which the chair was not designed. Asturia was slightly less industrial than Zaibach, comparing cobblestone to smooth pavement and metal. Somehow they would get through it, they always did. As long as he had Allen by his side, he really wasn't worried.

Allen was overjoyed at the sudden turn around in Gaddes' demeanor.  He'd go back to the manor and see his daughter and such, though he kept Gaddes' developments quiet as much as he could.  It would be a wonderful surprise to them when they returned.  The blonde knight had been unable to sleep the night before they were to release Gaddes, even though he lay curled up at the brunette's side.  He'd slept there recently just about every night, almost as if making up for the coldness that had grown between them during those times.  But now, they were as they had been, easy with one another, laughing and grinning.  Things would be alright.

Allen promised to be at Gaddes' side when he needed it, promised to give him whatever aid he needed.  He loved Gaddes and couldn't fathom not being able to help him.  

Gaddes' chair, they discovered, had more than one function. Not only did it serve a purpose for easy transportation for one so debilitated as he, but it also made for easy storage. The wheels popped off with a press of a button, and the frame even folded. It had fascinated both men for at least an hour, marveling over the developments Zaibach had, many, many years ahead of Asturia or any of the Allied Countries.

So it had been neatly stored within the carriage that Allen had sent for, next to Gaddes' feet. Once again, he was well dressed and cleanly groomed, though no longer in the ragged clothing of his station. Instead, he was dressed in some of Allen's spare clothes, thankful for the shirt he wore as it was less foppish than Allen's usual frills. He was calmly situated upon the seat, having to hold the grip by the carriage door so that he did not fall over. He still was not used to traveling so much with a lower half that continued to disobey his commands. It was - unnerving.

"How long is the carriage ride?" Gaddes asked again, as he'd kept inquiring on how much further it was to the manor.

Allen rested a gloved hand over Gaddes' smiling softly.  "Not too far now, I promise.  It just seems longer since it's been awhile since you've been home."  Home.  It was where Angelina and Riden and Kio waited.  Allen had timed it right to when he'd shown up the past few days, right around this time.  Only this time, it wasn't alone.  The knight could barely restrain his excitement.

"I love you," he said again, as he'd said so many times before in the past days

The sergeant smiled a cocky smile, quirking a brow. "You'd think I know that already," he quipped, taking Allen's hand with his spare one, and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He took a breath, and started thinking deep thoughts. How would they react to see him in this new Zaibach chair, unable to walk to the front door of the manor? Angelina would be confused, wouldn't she? That her dear uncle could not run beside her any longer?

He shook his head and gazed down at his legs. "I'm glad for what they gave me, but . . . it's not really the same as walking on your own two feet, is it?"

"Not really," he said softly, a small smile lingering, "but at least you're not confined to a bed anymore.  The spare bedroom downstairs, I got it set up for you so you don't have to try and go up the stairs.  I want to make things easier for you."

"Right," he said softly, "Easier." Gaddes swallowed. He didn't really want things to be easier. He wanted them to be the same as they were. He wanted to run, to jump, to lift Angelina up to his full six foot height and give her a tender kiss on her cheek and fondly twirl her around. He'd missed her so much, more than he missed Allen, he had to admit. They were both her father, he realized, and his heart ached to continue that loving relationship. To be a family . . .

That's all he really wanted. 

The carriage finally rounded the courtyard of the Schezar manor, and came to a stop. "Do you remember how to put this thing back together?" he asked, picking up the metallic frame of his wheelchair.

"We took it apart and put it back together so many times I'd think me a fool if I didn't," he joked, kissing the other man's cheek softly.  All he'd wanted was to have his Gaddes back... not the shell of a man that had inhabited his bed for so long, no... but his Gaddes.  And he was ecstatic that he had returned to him.

With a bit of effort, Allen and Gaddes managed to get the thing back together and the blonde helped his lover outside and into it.  No one was outside... just like usual, they were likely morosely sitting about.  "They don't know you're coming back, okay?  It's going to be a surprise."

Gaddes tested the wheels briefly, looking at each of them to make sure they were correctly put on and not about to fall off. It's design made effort to move very simple and easy, and he was thankful that he didn't have to put so much strength in a single push forward. He took in his surroundings. The stillness in such sunshine was unnerving, he had to admit, even if he was glad that no one was there to see him be helped into a chair.

"Mind explaining how I'm going to get up those front steps?" he asked.

"Mm... I might have to help you up those."  He knew Gaddes didn't much like being helped... anymore than he had when he'd been blinded.  But they both knew that sometimes it was necessary.  Allen tucked a bit of the other's hair behind his ear, tracing his thumb along the brunette's smooth chin.  No matter what would happen, he'd still love him.

Gaddes nearly argued, opening his mouth before thinking twice. There would logically be no other way. At least, not until they figured out a way to get rid of those steps. The air filled tires of Gaddes' chair made it easy for him to move over the dirt paths, and he made his way toward the front steps of the manor. With Allen's help, they were able to pull Gaddes, in his chair, up the stairs by the big wheels, turn him around and he pushed himself through the door.

The hard wood floors of the inside of Allen's home made for smooth rides, and again, Gaddes was very glad. "Is there a princess in the room?" he asked, quietly coming into the parlor. Angelina had been laying comfortably on the rug, idly playing with a doll that Yume had given her. The girl claimed that the doll looked like Angelina, silver hair and everything.

She gasped at the sound of Gaddes' voice, having only heard the front door open but no footsteps. She sat up quickly, moving her head about, and scrunching up her nose. "Uncle Gaddes?!"

Allen smiled softly, walking in a little behind his lover, watching him.  It was good for him to be back, to be home.  It would be difficult at first, but they would pull through.  They'd have to, they promised each other.  Angelina would be so happy to have him back here, he knew.  And Riden and Kio and Pyle.  And he could see why... he'd been so happy when he'd found out he could come home, he'd been so very happy when he'd looked at him and smiled, when he'd been shown the Gaddes he knew all over again.

"Yes, it's me, princess. Come over here and we'll have a ride in my new chair," said Gaddes, grinning to the little girl, watching her as she smiled and quickly hopped to her feet. She had no trouble finding the source of his voice, slowly zeroing in on him and tentatively holding out her hand. He grabbed it, and plucked her up into his lap before giving her a gentle squeeze. "Oh, Angelina. I've missed you so much."

Angelina, as any happy little girl could, fondly returned her uncle's affections and gave him kisses on his cheek. She was thoroughly surprised to find it so smooth. "Uncle Gaddes! Your face isn't scratchy anymore!!" She giggled, bringing her hand up and running her fingers over the smoothness, "I like it! But . . . Uncle Gaddes, why are you in a chair?" she gasped again as they had begun to move about the foyer in a circle, "Uncle Gaddes!! We're moving and sitting down! Is this an airship? A tiny one?" 

Gaddes could only chuckle slightly, casting a pleading glance toward Allen and hoping he would explain to his daughter why Uncle Gaddes can't walk anymore.

"He's decided he likes moving around like this, princess, because he's lazy.  But that's a secret between you and me, okay?"  Allen smiled softly.  She would know in time.  But for now... she was only five, after all.  He leaned lightly against the wall, looking at the two of them.  He loved them both so much that sometimes it hurt to bear.  And seeing them like that... it was wonderful.

While it wouldn't be exactly the same, it couldn't be too far from it, he assured himself.  He was still Gaddes, even if he couldn't walk.

Gaddes was grateful for Allen's simplified explanation. He didn't want to be the one to tell her just yet either. All he could do was make the best of it, and gliding around in a chair with wheels seemed like it would be fun for a child. Perhaps he could use it to his advantage in entertaining little Angelina. Gaddes made a graceful little turn, which brought a giggle from the delighted child in his lap. She was so precious. He had to embrace her again just for sheer love of her. She would truly grow up to be a wonderful person, he thought.

"I love you, princess," he said, squeezing her again and giving her a kiss on her smooth porcelain-like cheek. Her cupid bow lips turned into a smile, showing her baby teeth in the front and making her seem to cute to even look at. Gaddes laughed, playing with a ringlet. "Too cute," he said. He then looked to Allen, keeping the little girl close to him on his lap, "Where's everyone else?"

Allen smiled softly, looking at them in fondness.  They were both so lovely, so irreplaceable.  It took the knight a moment to draw himself from his thoughts at the other's question, lifting his head.  "Mm?  Ah, let me get them."  The blonde turned, padding lightly up the steps, knocking softly on Riden's door.  "Riden...?  It's Allen."  Riden had been the easiest to deal with in this whole situation, and Allen blamed that on the other man being such a good person.  He was surrounded by them, not excluding Chris and Ethan.

"Yeah, boss?" asked Riden quietly, looking up from the decorative plate he'd found on the guest bedroom wall and quickly hiding it behind his back. He almost had a mind to defend himself, to ensure the knight that he wasn't going to steal it, even if it was a fine pretty white and blue ceramic that's probably older than three generations. He gave the knight a nervous grin, trying to work the plate back onto the shelf.

Allen hardly even noticed, really.  He pushed the door opened and gave a little smile, motioning to him.  "Get the others and come downstairs.  There's something you should see, alright?  All of you."  The blonde was still wary of Pyle and Kio, but he couldn't blame them for being upset.

Riden hastily replaced the plate with Freidian designs and went to retrieve Pyle and Kio. In thinking about it, he realized he didn't really want Oruto there anymore anyway, and was half-glad the throwing knife expert had decided to resign from the army after so much tragedy had taken place. Riden himself had been thinking about doing the same, resigning and all - he didn't think he could take much more death of his friends, and hope Kio and Pyle would at least join him. 

He passed by the room which had been given to the visited Terrans, Chris and Ethan, and beckoned them to come along with him. Even if Riden was a little slow, he already knew what the surprise might entail. But as they all tromped downstairs, even he was surprised to see Gaddes' new chair and how easily he seemed to move about in it.

Allen awaited them downstairs, glancing at Pyle and Kio when they came downstairs.  He hadn't seen them much since the event in the infirmary.  When they came down, he had a slight urge to turn away, but he didn't.  Not this time.  Kio paused at the bottom of the steps, looking over at Allen for a moment before he turned his head towards where he could hear Angelina giggling.  

And Gaddes.

In a metal chair with wheels.  

"Sarge?" he asked carefully, almost like he was wary of saying anything.  If it was a dream... he didn't want to wake up.

Ethan stared at Gaddes for a long moment, then broke into a grin, looking over at Chris excitedly.  He had a mind to hug the absolute hell out of Gaddes, but he could wait.

Chris, being always cool and calm, returned his brother's grin and situated himself against the wall, still on the stairs. He would wait and watch over the scene for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest. Riden, on the other hand, being the impatient and jolly little fellow that he was, jumped down the last remaining steps of the staircase and moved quickly to give his Sarge a huge hug. Angelina continued to giggle within the embrace. "Hi, Uncle Riden!" she chirped.

Gaddes grinned up at Riden, who was now taller than he was, but it didn't matter. For now, it only amused Gaddes. Riden playfully ruffled Angelina's silver hair, planting a kiss on her sweet little head. "So what do you think?" asked Gaddes, popping up the front end of the chair for a second, and getting another fit of giggles from his niece.

"It's - a strange device. A wheelchair? It looks nothing like any of us had ever seen before in our country..." 

"It's Zaibach design," said Allen softly, shaking his head.  "Some of the things they have in that place are so utterly complex.  It's really kind of stunning."  The blonde smiled a little, glancing over at Ethan and Chris.  For one, it was good to have Gaddes back.  And another... Ethan was slowly slipping back into who he had been before.  With his brother's encouragement and comfort, he was moving past the events with Basram.  He had even spoken to Hans on several occasions.  The knight turned his gaze back to the others, for a moment lingering on Pyle and Kio.  

The big soldier seemed to feel almost sheepish, glancing at Allen out of the corner of his eyes.  Later, Allen would assure him that he understood why they'd reacted as such.

"Can I have a ride too?" Riden was asking, picking up Angelina and roughly settling onto Gaddes' lap. Gaddes let out a dramatic 'ooof!' with the weight of Riden upon him, giving him a sardonic grin.

"Get off of me, you ass." said Gaddes, quirking his brow to show that he was annoyed - but not really. Angelina caught the swear word and made a face.

"Uncle Gaddes! Father says not to use swear words around me! Because I'm very impressionable - damn it!" she emphasized the last just like a soldier would, which would have made any sailor proud. Gaddes cocked his head curiously, giving a glance to Allen, before pushing Riden off of his lap. The little soldier landed on the floor with a thud, Angelina comfortably fixed on top of him as he had cushioned their fall.

Allen chuckled a little, shaking his head.  He raised a gloved hand, shaking his head.  "She might be raised around soldiers, but I'm going to have her behave like a lady.  Because she is one."  Allen offered a hand to Riden, a little bit of a grin lingering on his lips, picking up his daughter and settling her on Gaddes' lap.

Ethan just smiled a little, looking over at them.  He was glad the moroseness had left them.  It hadn't seemed right that these people, these good people had to go through such things.

"It's a neat chair," spoke up Chris from his perch on the stairs, giving Ethan a quick glance with a grin, "Allen, you might not be too surprised about this - but we have wheelchairs like that on Earth. Zaibach really is advanced, I guess. Chairs like that, on Earth, are even used for sports. In fact, people are way more maneuverable in them, so sometimes they'd use them even if they don't need them. Racing and basketball, mostly. Neat, huh?"

Allen blinked a little, looking over at Chris.  He smiled a bit, nodding.  "Yes... it is amazing.  Of course, your world in general was."  

 Ethan tugged lightly on Chris' arm, grinning a little, his voice soft.  "Isn't it good to see them smiling like that again?"  It really was.  To see both of them doing so... it was wonderful.  And to see the other soldiers excited about Gaddes' return.  It was nice not to see the scathing looks Allen got behind his back, though he was sure the knight knew of them.

Chris smiled, watching Gaddes and Angelina as the girl's uncle kept showing off wheelies and turns just to get some giggles out of the precious silver haired princess. Oh, they were a pair, alright. A blind girl and her paraplegic uncle. If they weren't such good people, and if it wasn't so tragic and real, it would have been an amusing situation. Gaddes would lean in close to Angelina's little ear, bending to whisper to her to get ready - give her a kiss on her temple - and off they would go down the hallway. Angelina's astonished little yelps would make everyone in the room smile and chuckle. 

"Yes, Ethan," agreed Chris to his brother's inquiry, "It truly is very good."

~

Once the dust cloud settled, and many congratulations and welcome homes were said to the returned sergeant, things seemed thankfully less tense, and everyone gathered in their own places to relax. Riden was still unsure about the war. He was unsure if he wanted to help out anymore, and played with the thought of resigning like Oruto. It wasn't until later in the day when he'd finally gotten the courage to tell Allen himself about such news.

Allen was in the parlor, curled up on the windowsill, skimming through a book he'd read a thousand times before.  The cover was loose, the binding failing, but he still read it, had read it since he was younger.  When Riden had come to speak with him, the blonde had set aside the book, marking his place and hopping off the sill, walking over to him.

The little thief, though he was a year older than Allen, looked very bashful as he approached his commander. He wasn't used to confrontation, no matter how much of it he'd been through. He was the tunnel rat, the side line man, the one behind the curtains, in the shadows - not up front and in someone's space about anything. So the blush on his face wasn't entirely uncommon to find in him. His foot rubbed against his leg, and somehow he'd managed to finally speak, "Um - b-boss? I need to tell you . . .," he gulped, braved a look at Allen's curious expression before looking down at his boots again, "I'm leaving the army."

Allen sighed softly, looking at him.  "I... don't blame you, really.  With the war... and with everything that's happened, I really don't.  I'm just sad to see you go," he said softly.  Yet another soldier of his was lost.  It hurt to think such things... but it was Riden's decision.

"But know that no matter what happens you always have a place here, alright?  You're always welcome at my side."

He didn't want to man to leave... but he couldn't make him stay.

Riden lifted his gaze slightly, his eyebrows going way up on his forehead, a hopeful grin on his lips. "Do - do you still need a lookout for Crusade?" he asked meekly.

"Always."  Allen smiled softly, looking at him.  "Though," he said teasingly, looking at him, "I don't know just who I'd get... I mean, it has to be someone special..."

"O-oh. . .," said the nervous little man, hanging his head and frowning. Apparently, he didn't get the jest on the knight's part, too nervous and saddened to look past simple things like a small joke.

"I was teasing, Riden."  Allen draped his arm over the other's shoulders, smiling.  "You're more than welcome to keep on if you wish.  But are you sure?  Even if you're not in the army, you'll be in danger if something happens..."

"Boss!" he exclaimed, suddenly elated when the joke had been cleared up. He smiled sheepishly, feeling embarrassed that he'd been so occupied with his thoughts to get it. But now he smiled and was thankful for Allen's change in demeanor. "Captain, sir Allen, sir. . . I felt that was always my place, to be on the Crusade with you and the guys. I don't want to be in the war, but I still want to fly."

"Then I welcome you back, eh?  You know I'm honored that you'd want to stay at my... no, at our side, even though we've all been through so much."

"Better than workin' at mom's pub," sniffed Riden indignantly, holding his nose up in the air. His mock arrogance didn't last long, as he peeked at Allen's face, popping open one eye to leer at him, before he broke out into a grin.

Allen laughed a little, shaking his head.  "I think... you've made the smarter decision out of all of us.  To leave the military, I mean."

With that, Riden shook his head, pulling away from his commander to continue the conversation seriously. "Kio's leavin'. And . . . and Pyle is too. Now that the Sarge is . . . well, you know." He hung his head again, licking his lips nervously. "Is the Sarge still gonna be your second mate on the ship, boss?"

Allen sighed softly.  It would be he and Riden... and Gaddes.  Always Gaddes, no matter what happened.  "If he wishes it.  If not... then I completely understand.  I guess... I guess it'd be odd, wouldn't it?  Just you and I..."

"That's not true, boss," boomed the large man, coming around the corner as he'd caught the tail end of their conversation. The big bewhiskered soldier gave Allen a grin and a brisk salute, hitting his chest firmly and giving a short bow. "I follow my captain anywhere he may lead." Riden smiled, and could have jumped for joy that his friend would not desert them. Kio was coming back!

 Pyle, who came up behind Kio and quickly arranged himself next to the man, hastily followed the bigger man's lead and saluted awkwardly, with a slanted bow. "Uh - yeah, boss! What Kio said!" He looked to Riden, who also fumbled to salute Allen, just like the first two, grinning the whole time.

Allen started a little, looking over at them for a long moment.  He was silent as a small smile crawled onto his lips.  They truly were devoted to him.  It was... amazing.  Touching.

 The blonde quickly wiped away the beginnings of tears that had built in his eyes and laughed softly.  "Now look what you've done..."

Gaddes came around the men, who all stood at attention, a fist over their hearts and staring confidently toward their commander. He might not have been able to join them standing, but in his chair, he too placed a fist over his heart and half bowed in his seated position. He looked up slightly, grinning and saying coolly, "Yeah. What Kio said."

"Oh just... stop it, all of you.  You're going to make me cry or something."  Granted, he was nearly doing it already... they'd lost so many, he'd drug them through trial after trial, they'd felt so much pain... and yet, they still stood beside him.  They still vowed to be there, as they had been before.

"And have you thought about acquiring a few new men for your crew? There's only four of us, not including yourself," said Gaddes, resting his hands comfortably upon his knees and leaning forward. His grin was the usual cheeky grin that he would give his partner whenever he felt like being playful. It truly was a special moment, and he'd already thought about it.

"Well, we certainly need more, don't we?  This is hardly enough for an actual crew."  Allen cocked his head to the side slightly, looking over at Gaddes.  "What're you plotting?  You have something in mind..."

"Well," thought the sergeant, bringing his finger up to his lips, his eyes rolling upwards toward the ceiling before reached behind the wall and pulling out Chris by the arm. "Here's one suggestion." he said, as Chris landed ungracefully across Gaddes' lap with an audible 'oof!' . . . meekly managing a wave towards Allen.

"Aye, capt'n . . ." he strained.

Allen blinked, looking at Chris.  "Are you sure?  This isn't your world, this isn't your war.  You don't have to get involved like this..."

The blonde was even more surprised when Ethan peeked out from behind Kio, waving a little.  "I know... I'm not going to be any good at fighting, but I'm sure I can manage something.  And... we're here, whether we like it or not.  We're in this war even if we don't want to.  You... Allen, you're a friend.  I don't leave friends to fight their own battles alone."

Allen stared at Ethan, then turned his gaze to Chris.  

"And me and Ethan," said Chris, noting Allen's intent gaze upon him and quickly removing himself from Gaddes to stand next to Kio, "We're in this together." He brought his brother out from behind the larger man. 

"Well, I guess that settles it," spoke Gaddes confidently. His eyebrow quirked again, but the grin faded a bit as he moved himself closer to Allen, and spoke in a quieter tone, "But this still leaves one unresolved question."

Ethan stood next to his brother, glancing at him and offering a little smile.

Allen arched a brow, looking at Gaddes.  "Hm?  Howso?"  The blonde pursed his lips a little, cerulean eyes on his lover.

Gaddes wouldn't be the one to say it, however. He had a decent enough heart, but he was still bitter about his new predicament, life in a chair and the weapons that caused them. Instead, he looked down as his hands gripped the wheels of his metal chair. When he did not speak for longer than was comfortable, Chris brought it upon himself to do so.

"Hans," he said quietly, "We - we were thinking . . . after everything that's happened, maybe . . ."

"I have nothing in my homeland.  Meine family has forsaken me.  I am dead to them," he spoke from the entranceway, his voice soft, thick with the foreign accent.  "Or worse.  But you have shown me kindness in taking me in, in caring for my wounds--even if only because Die Katzchen wished it... and I am grateful.  While Basram is a land of technology... we are not one of chivalry and respect.  I honor your lands for that."

Allen turned to look at the Basram soldier, frowning a little.  He was silent for a long moment, then walked over to him, taking his arm and easing him onto the couch.  "You shouldn't move around too much like that.  Your side still hasn't healed, right?"

Gaddes moved next to them, peering steadily at the Basram soldier by the name of Hans. This was the first he'd seen of the man in nearly a month after the fort was defeated - after he had rescued this man on Angelina's behalf. She truly could not be denied sometimes, and though he cursed her charm for making him save this boy's life, he now had to rethink his initial feelings on the subject. Katz and Teo were dead. Oruto gone and left them. He would give them a full crew, this boy. And maybe - just maybe, they could eventually learn to live in harmony once more.

His hands felt his knees, rubbing them anxiously, still a little unused to not being able to feel his own extremities. It felt like touching someone else's knees entirely, and had unnerved him at first. But he'd starting becoming accustomed to it - though it was and always would be a constant reminder, that Basram's weaponry was the cause of it. It was frustrating as hell, and Gaddes would admit to it readily.

"Are you ready to take on the duties and responsibilities upon the airship Crusade, even though it might lead to an untimely death?" spoke the sergeant plainly.

"I am still a soldier.  To whatever army it makes no difference.  You people are good people... and if it gives me a chance to protect Die Katzchen then so much the better.  I know... it is likely hard to trust me, considering that I am from Basram, but... as I said, I have nothing there now."  Hans looked at Gaddes, almost sadly, knowing that the man couldn't walk because of weapons that he had, at one time, wielded himself.

 "He'll be beneficial, you know," said Allen softly, looking at Hans.  "considering the fact that he knows the Basram army and the weapons they use."

Gaddes nodded affirmatively, his hands on his wheels and half turning around to the rest of the group. "Is that everyone?" he asked. Riden immediately began counting on his fingers, his tongue sticking out in concentration and his eyes rolled up to the ceiling.

 "That replaces all the missing posts on your ship, by my count," said Chris, making Riden pout a little as he didn't get the chance to answer himself. Gaddes gave Chris another curt nod, turning his chair back around to face Allen. He gave him a cold stare, trying convey that he meant business.

"It's up to you when we take off, captain." he said sternly.

Allen looked at all of them, nodding.  "It might be best if he heals first."

Hans inclined his head slightly.  "Shouldn't be too long at all.  It's healing quickly."  

"Then I suppose that's decided it."  The knight nodded, pursing his lips a little.

"Right, well, I guess we'll just have to start preparing the ship. Loading it with supplies - all that boring stuff you fops don't want to handle." Gaddes said over his shoulder, already moving out of the room, the new crew following him down the hall.

Allen shook his head a little, smirking.  Things were slowly getting somewhat normal.  The blonde sighed, sitting down beside Hans with a heavy sigh.  "She's... really fond of you."

"She doesn't know what I've done," he whispered softly, shaking his head.

"Done what, father?" Whispered Angelina from the doorway in the parlor, poking her little silver head around the doorframe and listening inside eagerly.

Allen blinked, lifting his head.  "Ah?"

"Die Katzchen, I left my family just to take care of you ja?" he answered quickly, turning his head over towards her.

Angelina slowly came up to Hans, a little confused by his words. So much, so that she wasn't really concentrating on where his voice was coming from, and had to ask in a meek little voice, "Where are you?"

"Over hier, Die Katzchen."  Hans held out his hand, brushing her cheek with it.  

Unusual for her, she shied away from his touch, taking a step back. Her face showed that she was really thinking, really concentrating on the words he'd used. Cupid bow shaped lips turned into an unbecoming frown, foreign on her pretty face and almost marring her innocent beauty. After another moment, she shook her head.

"No," she whispered, "You can't - you can't leave your family." The greatest surprise of all was when she, quite suddenly, raised her voice simply to scream at him, "Don't *ever* leave your family! Never!"

Hans sighed softly, surprised at her yelling, glancing at Allen.  The knight resting a gloved hand against her cheek.  "Princess, he had to leave his family.  It's okay, he didn't want to."  And it was the truth.  Hans hadn't wanted to leave, hadn't wanted to be shunned by his family.

It was so unusual, the sting in her heart when Hans had told her he had left his very own family - just to take care of her. It was far from flattering. He left his *family*... it was everything that Angelina held dear to her, her own family. Her mother had left her, had died. Without her father or Uncle Gaddes, life would simply not be worth living for her. She would be lost and confused and unloved. Never leave your family. Never betray the ones that love you.

She just didn't understand that Hans' family were the ones that had betrayed him. Unable to comprehend such malice from those one would call blood kin, she sniffed and stepped away, trying to find the way out of the parlor. Again, she was not concentrating, and ended up fruitlessly searching the wall for the door in which she had initially entered.

"Princess, listen to me.  Don't be mad at him, you'll understand someday."

Hans sighed softly, tipping his head back to look up at the ceiling.  Well, this was odd.  Angelina had been the only one that hadn't ever shunned him... with the exception of Melzin, of course.  And here she was, upset because of the event with his family.  Of course she couldn't understand it... she never had to fight for her father's good graces, for his attention.

Angelina stopped, pressing her face against the wall and closing her eyes. Here was a little girl, five years old going on thirty, it seemed. She was too clever for her own good, but sometimes too innocent to protect herself from harm. She - would understand someday. But would she? It seemed such a horrible thing, to lose one's family. But to intentionally leave them was unthinkable. Slowly, she slid down to the floor, still pressed up against the bare wall of the parlor.

"Mother left us . . ." she cried, "I never would have wanted her to, but she did. And I never got to know her."

Allen blinked, standing and padding over to her.  He knelt down, hugging her to his chest, stroking her hair.  "She didn't want to, Princess, I promise.  She wasn't like that.  She wouldn't ever want to leave you.  But sometimes... you don't have a choice."

Slowly, she shook her head, her bottom lip trembling terribly. Her head hurt as her tears flowed freely. She had never acted like this, had never thought about her mother like this, or had been so conscious of her own family - her own feelings. Everything that's happened within the month's time was wearing down on her innocence, and making her grow up far too soon. Her voice, for the one word should could only barely say, was so full of hurt and pain, it strained and choked even as she held out her arms to her father.

"Father . . ." 

Allen pulled her close, tightly, as if to fiercely protect her from all of that.  "It's okay, princess.  It's okay...."

Silently, Gaddes came and in placed his hand upon Allen's shoulder. He'd already finished assigning duties and giving orders to the new crew, only coming back inside to see if Allen and Hans were to join them with their daughter before he had found them in a precarious emotional state. "Let me take her," he said gently.

Allen bit down on his bottom lip lightly, nodding and glancing at him.  "Go with your Uncle Gaddes, okay...?  He'll make things better."

Angelina only sniffed slightly as she was handed over to Gaddes, her uncle making sure she had a comfortable spot on his lap before gliding out of the parlor and letting Allen and Hans have a little more time to - get passed the awkwardness.


	40. Proper Mourning

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Proper Mourning**

Allen and Hans spoke often, the general's son explaining things about Basram quietly.  He seemed to usually speak quietly, especially around Allen.  Sometimes, he would lapse off into his native language, obviously translating words into Asturian.  

As Hans healed, Allen taught him Asturian, making sure he could get a better grasp on it.  He was pleasantly surprised when he held a full conversation with the other not once trailing off or reverting back to his mother tongue.  When Hans had healed, the Crusade once more loaded up, Allen gave the order to head out.  They were going back to the fort.  They'd see if Basram had taken up residence there, they'd survey the damage... Scherezade was safely packed inside, waiting its master's hands at its controls.

"It'll take the better part of the night to get there," said Gaddes quietly from beside Allen, once they'd finished up loading the Crusade and setting her off into the sky. Gently, he tugged Allen along with him while they made their way down the hall, stopping briefly as Gaddes nudged his lover down to sit in his lap. "Come on, I'll give you a ride."

Allen blinked a bit, then settled down in the other's lap, draping an arm over his shoulder.  "Mm... does this mean I'm the princess?"

"As pretty as you are to look like one," said Gaddes cheekily, starting them off down the wooden corridors of the Crusade towards the Captain's Quarters, "I don't swing that way." He barely even felt Allen's weight upon him, only the drape of his arm across his shoulder and along his upper body where Allen lay back against him. It was truly still - odd.

Allen chuckled a little, nuzzling the other man's neck softly.  "Oh, you know I'm not a princess," he purred a little as he spoke, a small smile curling on his lips.  It was odd, but... he could be close to Gaddes this way which was wonderful.

"Speaking of a princess. . ." he said, slowing down his speed to just merely nudging his wheels along instead of racing to the bedroom. His head automatically inclined and rested upon Allen's in an affection nuzzle, pressing his cheek against the man's hair.  "Have you tucked in the little one?"

"Mm... I just did a little bit ago.  She's curled up with Hans, actually."  She'd been doing that a lot lately, and Allen didn't really blame her.  Even if he was Basram, he had a sort of calm apathy about him.  And deep within him lingered sadness... he'd lost his family, his home at so young an age, after all.  He really was a good kid.

The airship moved steadily beneath them, floating calmly along the night breezes with hardly any resistance. It was a nice time of year for flight, actually, and instead of taking them to Allen's quarters to retire for the night, Gaddes pushed them toward the rear of the ship, in the guymelef hangar where there was a railed terrace for them to gaze up at the stars. The moment the chill air hit his face, he nudged his head a little closer to Allen's, stopping right at the end of the railed platform. Locking his wheels, he let out a sigh and looked to Allen, smiling slightly.

"Thought you might like a detour." he told him.

Allen blinked a little, turning his gaze towards the hangar.  He smiled softly, curling his arms around the other loosely.  "Just so long as it's with you, of course," he whispered softly.  Oh, how he loved being at Gaddes' side, so close, to feel his warmth there, to smell him.  It was bliss.

"I wonder," he said softly, almost sadly musing to himself as he settled back in his chair. His hand found Allen's hair and his fingers buried themselves in the golden locks, gently stroking them. Affection - it was all he had left to do, wasn't it? They could never . . .  "Did you ever say such things to your sister?" he asked quietly.

"I have," he said softly, snuggled close to Gaddes.  But Gaddes had been before Celena.  Of  course, that didn't mean he loved her any less.  He hugged him closely, breathing in the older man's scent.

It was too delicate of a subject to continue. Gaddes understood his affections for Allen, as much as Allen himself understood those that he returned. The knight was very close to his sister, he knew. After her death, it was an uphill battle of wills for his friend. He had never seen a grown man cry as much as Allen had for nearly that whole year after they'd finally buried her on the fort grounds. How quickly, it seemed, that Allen adhered himself to his old lover after her death. It wasn't really that Gaddes was not enjoying their relationship. In fact, he indulged himself in finally having a family with Allen - sometimes fantasizing that Angelina was theirs and theirs alone.

Was that wrong? He had to ask himself. Deeply, he sighed. He, too, missed the tomboyish girl with silver curls. The one who fancied herself to be a knight like her brother - who devoted herself wholly to him, despite all of the evils that befell them. Gaddes had not forgotten her. But in Allen's acceptance of her death, the sergeant had to wonder . . . did Allen forget?

"Allen," he began softly, a little seriously, "You know that I love you more than anything in the world. Right?"

Allen lifted his head a little, looking over at Gaddes.  The knight nodded to the other man's words, arching a brow.  "Of course I do," he said softly.  Allen himself sometimes liked to think of Angelina as their daughter... they had raised her.  But he didn't fault Celena for not being there.  He missed her so much, but he couldn't honestly say who he'd grieve over more.  Gaddes or Celena... he loved them both, they both were central to him.  Without one, he could live with the other.  But if both left... he would be lost.

"You and Angelina both," he said tenderly, "you guys are the only thing that really keep me going. You know?" A painful look cross over his features, and for that moment, he forced himself to tear his gaze away from Allen's handsome face. "Even with all this shit I have to go through. Without you guys, I would never survive. I could never live like this among other people. It makes me feel - out of place. Fuck, Allen, I'm only 32 years old. I should have expected something like this being in the army, but I'm still not used to it. It's . . . it's hard to think about, how I'll never walk again. That's what they told me at the infirmaries." He let out a bitter huff, "It's almost ironic. You get your sight back only for me to be crippled."

Allen smiled softly, cupping Gaddes' face in his hands.  He leaned forward, brushing his lips against his lover's to quiet him, shaking his head.  "But I can see you again, and that's what matters to me.  I know that this hurts you, that you can't walk... but you're still alive.  And... even with the responsibility of Angelina at hand, I don't think losing you and Celena both would have left me wanting to live.  Losing her was bad enough, but I had you... but if I lost you, who would be there to make things better?  I love you so much, Gaddes, no matter what happens.  Bad luck seems to follow us and I hate it... but we can't much change that."

"Sometimes I think, though, when I'm by myself . . . I wish for the impossible," he choked, "I don't - want - to be stuck in this chair, as much as it's helped me. As long as I'm not bedridden, I thought I would be alright. But even then, sometimes . . ." And suddenly, he hugged Allen fiercely, as if he were afraid to lose him - as if all the pain had finally come crashing onto his shoulders, and the weight being more than he could handle. "I can't ever be how I was. And - I don't think we could ever . . . Allen, we can't . . . how could we . . . That part of me is dead now, how could we ever . . .?"

"It doesn't matter," he murmured softly, hugging him back.  "I don't need that to love you.  I just need you, however you may come to me.  That's all I need is you.  Your scent, the feeling of you close to me, your smile, your warmth.  It's all I need.  Sex can't make me love you, Gaddes."  Allen sighed his hold on the other man, resting his head against Gaddes' shoulder.  "I just need you, that's it..."

His words - they were enough for him. That's all he needed, if it was all that was asked of him. He would love him unconditionally no matter what. Gaddes couldn't let anything stand in the way of their love. Not after finally acquiring a family. And for a few long moments, they simply held each other, content in the other's embrace, enveloped by the other's warmth . . . and even though Gaddes might not have felt the bulge growing beneath his pants did not mean that Allen, who practically sat on it, could not.

Allen was silent, curled up against him, hugging him.  And for a long moment, he hadn't noticed, too involved in simply holding him, hugging him.  But the blonde drew back after a moment, blinking.  "Are you sure you can't feel anything?" Allen asked softly, shifting a little in the brunette's lap.  Because, well... that wasn't nothing.

Gaddes sort of made a face at him, his fingers gently tracing the knight's jaw line. "You're not trying to be funny, are you?" he asked quietly, trying to put forth his usual smarm and smirk, but failing and instead having it replaced with despair.

Allen pursed his lips slightly, looking at him.  He moved to the side slightly, settling on Gaddes' thigh, glancing down.  No... no that wasn't nothing.  The blonde brushed his lips against Gaddes' cheek softly.  So his body reacted the same way... he just couldn't feel it.  Allen was sure that wouldn't make Gaddes feel much better.

"Oh, great..." he moaned, looking down at his bulging manhood and speaking to it as if it were a third person, "Working after retirement, are you? Fiend." 

Allen grinned, nuzzling Gaddes' neck softly.  Well, at least he wasn't completely broken.

Leaning back slightly in his chair to pull back and look at Allen properly, he flashed the knight a grin, already unlocking his wheels and turning them around to head back down the corridor. "I suppose - we better take care of it, hmm?"

"Mm," was Allen's response, a lazy smirk crawling onto his lips.  "Oh, yes, we'd best.  We wouldn't want you wandering around with that all day, would we?"

"What a bastard," commented Gaddes, again directing his tone towards his lap as it made a lovely little tent now. He pushed them through the doors of Allen's room and there stopped before the bed, staring at it for the chore of actually getting on it that was to come.

Allen smiled softly, looking at his lover and slowly unfolding himself from his lap, standing.  He looked at the brunette, arching a brow.  "Shall I help you?" he asked quietly, brushing a gloved hand against Gaddes' cheek.

It suddenly grew warm in the room, and Gaddes did *not* blush often. But it was almost embarrassing how little things like getting in and out of bed still required help from others. He sighed softly, trying to give Allen a small smile but failing. Then his gaze went back to his lap, and the lemon he'd apparently acquired within it. He'll probably never understand how it works without him, but somehow it did and at least he hadn't lost everything.

"Alright." he said, moving just up the bed and already starting to hoist himself up onto it.

Allen gently put his arms around Gaddes' waist, much like a hug, bearing the other's weight upon him as he helped him onto the bed.  The knight didn't mind doing such things at all, though he knew it did trouble his lover.  Some things you couldn't help, though, and this was one of them.  

Once the brunette was on the bed, Allen set about removing his boots, setting them aside.

Gaddes settled back comfortably, his back feeling better in a prone position upon the downy mattress - not dissimilar to the bed in Allen's own home. He grinned, bringing his hands behind the  back of his head and occasionally lifting his head to see Allen work at taking off the boots from his now foreign feet. "Hmm, do I get a show too?" he asked cheekily.

Allen pursed his lips a little, slowly arching a brow, speaking teasingly, "I don't see why I should do all the work, y'know."

Gaddes continued to grin, catching Allen's hand in his own and pulling him close. "Well, get up on this bed and we'll see about who does what work. Hmm?"

Allen smiled softly, kneeling on the bed beside his lover, curling his fingers within Gaddes'.  Friendly, teasing banter... it was easy with Gaddes, like it hadn't been with Celena.  Two completely different people, but he loved them both so much.

Slowly, Gaddes' reached up with his free hand and traced Allen's jaw, the bridge of his nose, and his cheek. The touch was so gentle, so tender - that the sudden trap of his arms about Allen's middle and the quick jerk to bring him flat upon the bed was completely unexpected. Gaddes' of course, could only chuckle.

Allen had leaned his head slightly into the touch when it had come, a small smile on his lips.  However, the knight let out an ungraceful 'eep' as he was pulled forward, falling forward, surprised.

Gaddes managed to roll himself onto his side and carefully prop himself up on an elbow, grinning down as Allen stared up to the ceiling briefly to collect himself. "Now, let's see what I'm to do with this shirt you have on. Bothersome ties, need to get rid of those, don't we? Oh, why not just the whole thing? Make it fun, hmm?"

Allen turned his gaze towards his lover, smirking a little.  "Oh, pff, I don't need a shirt.  The thing's useless, really, you know."

With a smile, Gaddes gladly started taking off Allen's shirt, pulling the fabric up before burying his head underneath it and giving Allen several love nibbles on his very refined abdomen.

Allen shifted a little to aid in the removal of his shirt, shivering a little and giving a soft laugh at the nibbles.  Of course, he couldn't fight off the other very well, considering his arms tangled in the mass of cloth.

After having his fun, Gaddes finally pulled back, removing Allen's shirt before settling along side of him again. One hand reached and idly stroked the hair atop of Allen's head, as Gaddes gazed down into his lover's eyes fondly. "I could never love anyone more than I love you, Allen," he said softly.

Allen blinked a little, looking at the man.  He'd loved them both... and they both had loved him right back.  It seemed almost unfair that they should share his heart when they spoke of him, as if his love was split between the both of them when their love was given wholly to him.  It was almost... disheartening.  The smiled on his lips faltered slightly, but he pushed those thoughts aside, looking at his lover.

"Is something wrong?" Gaddes asked, his voice quiet. He'd noticed Allen's expression change, almost transition that pearl white smile into a frown, and a flutter of worry entered Gaddes' heart. Was it something he had said? Or did Allen suddenly have second thoughts about making love to a cripple? He couldn't get over the fact so quickly, as it's hardly been two months since he'd lost the ability to walk. Even one of the Zaibach doctors mentioned as much.

"Allen," continued the sergeant, "If you're not up to this, just tell me. I don't - I don't want to make you . . . uncomfortable."

The blonde sighed, shaking his head.  "It's... no.  Celena.... she said those same words.  It... it made me think of her."  Allen brushed his lips against Gaddes' cheek, offering a little smile.  "It's not you.." it was that he couldn't give up on Celena.

Gaddes shook his head, feeling his own heart clench at the mention of the late Schezar's name. Slowly, he settled back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts began to claim him. "Sometimes . . . I think about her too. I liked her a lot. She was - like a sister to me too, you know?" 

"Mm, I know..."  Allen settled down at his lover's side, looking at him, head resting against his shoulder.  "Both of you cared for one another."  They were like a family, the three of them... and Angelina was so much like her mother it was startling sometimes, really.

Gaddes hardly even realized he'd had tears pooling in his dark green eyes, making them glisten slightly. He hardly ever cried - had remembered crying in his bedridden and bitter state, but not over a death. He didn't cry for death. But Celena . . . "She was too young," he swallowed the lump that had been forming in his throat, his voice straining slightly, "Gods, look at me. She was *your* ruddy sister, and I'm about to make myself into a sobbing mess thinking about her."

"I... I still wake up crying sometimes, you know," he said softly, bowing his head slightly.  "And sometimes, when I'm in the study, when I'm reading in the windowsill like I do, I start thinking about her and I can't stop it.  I just start crying."  He should be over it, right?  He shouldn't have to cry about it anymore.

Maybe it was just time, Gaddes thought - time to have a good cry that had been repressed for so many years. Maybe that repression is what drove Allen to that bout of hallucination. Perhaps it would be healthy for them, just once, to indulge themselves in a well deserved, all over mourning about the sweet silver haired girl that was brought back into Allen's life only to be taken away again by the cold hands of death three years later. Five years if one counted the two they'd spent upon the Mystic Moon.

 "She was beautiful," Gaddes finally let out, choking back the sob he'd been forcing into his chest.

Allen bit down on his bottom lip gently, nodding, his eyes half-closed.  "So very," he whispered, biting back the tremble that rose.  No, he hadn't gotten over it.  But if he had... then that would mean he hadn't loved her.  If he could get over her death so quickly, he had no right to proclaim love for her.

The other blinked back tears, forcing them to fall down the sides of his face. Yes - he did need this, he'd concluded. "She was so young. Gods, so young. She never even really got a chance to live her own life, did she? To live - with you, and your daughter. Just . . . just to live. . . "

"So many things happened... Gaddes, she never really had a childhood.  And then... then that.  She didn't have a chance at all.  You should have seen her, Gaddes... she was so happy when Angelina was born.  She was so happy..."

Gaddes tightened his hold around Allen, reaching stroke his pale cheek tenderly. "She was so happy with you, too. You - I overheard you once . . . talking about marrying her as your wife. I never asked - did you finally do it on the Mystic Moon? Marry her, I mean?"

"N-not quite, no," he said softly, shaking his head a little.  "We didn't have the money."  Which in itself was an odd experience for Allen.  "I... I was going to bring it up, but then..."  Allen's lithe frame trembled softly and he reached up a shaking hand to brush away his tears.

"The day you found her . . ." Gaddes realized, eyes narrowing. He bit his lip. Their story was such a sad one. "That was when you were going to ask her?"

"Not that exact day, no... but in a month we could have afforded it.  A month, Gaddes..."  Allen managed a soft whimper, clasping a hand over his mouth to quiet it.

They lay there quietly for a few long moments, in each other's company. One arm curled around Allen's waist and holding him close, Allen's arm draped over Gaddes' middle. They stayed there on the bed with their tears. Then an idea came to Gaddes, thinking about how Allen so nearly got married to his love, so close until she'd died too soon for the day to come. It made his heart ache horribly. "A month . . . Tell me, Allen." He tried to smile slightly, a faltering smile, weak and frail with remorse, "What would it have been like? Your wedding to her?"

"I... don't know.  She would have been beautiful--not that she wasn't all the time anyway."  Allen smiled a little, curled up next to his mover, comfortable.  He sighed softly, shaking his head slightly.  "I don't think it would have mattered much.  All that mattered was that it had happened..."

"Did you ever buy her a ring?" whispered Gaddes affectionately, settling into this more comfortable conversation. Once the harsh realization of her death had passed, it seemed - easier to talk about her like this.

"No... no, I'd wanted to go with her to buy it.  I wanted it to be special for her, you know?  But... well... I never got the chance."

Then came the hard question to ask. He'd never asked, never bothered, never wanted to know - before this. "H-How did she . . . what was it that . . .?"

Allen smiled a little at the memory of it.  "It was..."  it was hard to find a word for it, a good description,  "…perfect."  It was all he could think of, all he could think to even begin to describe it.

Gaddes closed his eyes painfully, drawing Allen a little closer. "How did she die, is what I'm asking."

"Mm... I... I don't know."  Allen shook his head, curling up closer to him, sighing softly.  "I wasn't paying much attention to the physicians... just to her."

"You - never bothered to ask them?" he asked softly, a little surprised that Allen wouldn't have wanted to know - wouldn't have demanded to know why she'd been taken from them so soon, so young.

"I didn't have time.  We... the pendant brought us back here not long after she passed away.  I'd been too caught up in the fact that she was... that she was gone..."

Gaddes nodded gravely, taking another deep breath as he let the thoughts linger. "How many times did you make love to her - up there on the moon?"

"Few," he said softly, shaking his head.  "Not nearly enough, I'd say."  Not nearly enough at all.  He'd been so... caught up in other things that he hadn't.  If he could go back, he would, knowing he would lose her so soon.

"Did she enjoy it?" was his next question, almost asked in a cheeky sort of tone - as if Gaddes was mocking. For who could not enjoy Allen's gentle love making?

"As far as I know," he said softly, a small smile on his lips.  "If she didn't, she never said otherwise."  She had craved it so much, he could only hope he'd fulfilled what she'd wished.

"Hm?"  Allen blinked a little, looking up at Gaddes.  He quirked a brow slowly, wondering where he was taking this.

"Well, if she were still alive," continued Gaddes, "You and I . . . would never have gotten back together. You two would have been married, with a beautiful child to raise. She would have been happy for it. Angelina - would have grown up a little differently. And you . . . maybe you wouldn't be so melancholy as you are now. You'd still have your sister . . . your - wife."

"Gaddes," he began softly, looking at the brunette, brushing his fingers against the other's cheek, "don't think like that.  I would have been married to her, yes, but it wouldn't be like I'd never love you.  It... wouldn't be like this, but I wouldn't stop loving you.  Do you understand that?  just like I can't ever stop loving her..."

"It seems like you do stop sometimes," Gaddes nearly accused, "Like you try so hard to just stop remembering her, and then it leads to you forgetting her, like you're forcing her out of your heart just for me. And - it didn't seem right that you did that. That you forgot her so quickly, or got over her like that. I know you can be stoic sometimes, but you're not heartless."

"I'm not... and I can't forget her.  But... I can't keep burdening all of you with it.  It hurts to push thoughts of her away, but there's a place for it.  I do still think about her, but... I don't like crying over it.  And I can hardly help but do so."

"Come here," beckoned Gaddes softly, tugging gently upon Allen's narrow waist so that he could scoot up and snuggle better. The sergeant had been quite a bit more - prone to affection since he'd gotten debilitated, but he never wondered about it. It was odd, but his heart just seemed to naturally require more physical reassurances to remind himself that he was, in fact, alive and awake.

 "I know you couldn't forget her, not really. But - I don't necessarily think you have to get over her either. At least, not like that. Let her memory linger, even though she's not here anymore. It might be sad, but she was too special to just get over - now that she's gone." And he thought for a moment more, thinking such strange ideas, wanting to ask questions that would otherwise be inappropriate. But he found he couldn't help himself - he only wanted to better know Allen, his way of thinking, and was curious about his relationship with his sister. Maybe it would help Gaddes to better understand the knight. "If - I meant to ask you . . . Would . . . would you have had more children? After Angelina?"

"I'm... I'm not sure," he said softly.  "With her, you mean?  I... it hurt so much to find out she was blind.  I'm not sure I could go through that again.  And... and I don't think I'd want to have children with anyone else."  Allen shook his head, sighing heavily.

"Well, you have - two - now, right?" Gaddes said slowly, looking into Allen's handsome face and searching his features in the dim lantern light. He brought up his hand, caressing the knight's fair cheek and brushing away the stray tears with his callused thumb.

"One."  He sighed softly... that boy... he wasn't his son.  He didn't raise him at all.  Only Angelina.  It was only her.  Allen shook his head a little, looking up at his lover.

"He'll figure it out eventually," said Gaddes cautiously, a serious look in his usually smarmy gaze, "But - I know it's not my business. So I'll keep quiet about it now. We shouldn't be talking of that kind of stuff anyway."

Allen sighed softly, hugging Gaddes, his head resting on his shoulder.  "I don't know what I'll do when he does, honestly.  I... I really don't."

 The blonde shook his head slightly, looking at the material of the brunette's shirt to force himself not to cry.  Two children... one with his sister... one with a woman married off to a king.  It was just... he sure had a wonderful choice in relationships.

Gaddes smiled a little, holding Allen gently while his idle hand stroked his hair. Taking a breath, he had to think about what he should say, his jaw working slightly as he decided. He stopped, and smiled again. "Angelina - is one of the most beautiful children I've ever seen in my life." he whispered to Allen, "And I have seen a lot of kids. Take it from a guy who comes from a family of 10, including me. Having her with your sister . . . I was surprised that all that was wrong with her was her sight. Kids from that kind of relationship don't make it passed two, usually. Aren't nearly as pretty, and certainly not known for mental prowess. Allen . . . you really are blessed, if you think about it. Even if Celena's gone, you still have a child so perfect in nearly every way. A true angel. Celena named her well."

Allen smiled a little, nodding a bit.  "Mm... I am rather fortunate.  I still have both of you, after all."  The blonde sighed softly, resting his forehead against the other's shoulder.  "And I love both of you so much."  And they loved him back.  And, after all... he still had Riden and Kio and Pyle... and now Hans, Ethan and Chris.  It was almost... amazing.

Gaddes then gave Allen his little grin, that same little grin that played across his lips so long ago, cocking his head to the side and steeling that glint in his eye. "Does teacher get a kiss?" he said playfully.

Allen blinked a bit, lifting his head to look at Gaddes.  Then, a small smile flickered on his lips and he leaned up, brushing them against Gaddes'.  He was glad for his lover's presence, for how much he had reverted back to as he had been before.

"Are you tired?" asked Gaddes, smiling his smarmy smiled and moving to rub his cheek against Allen's, nipping playfully at his lover's ear. "Because I'm not all that tired."

Allen chuckled a little, shaking his head slightly.  "Not at all, love, not at all."  He couldn't miss out on an opportunity like this.  Nae... a perfect opportunity like this.

~

 The Crusade flew steadily through the night and most of the next morning. Duties upon the ship were quickly taken care of, and the crew was more than glad to oblige. Riden always on watch on the periscope, Kio the helmsman, Gaddes second mate to Allen, and Pyle in guymelef maintenance in the hanger. Which left all three new members of the ship's crew to figure out what their best qualities would be suited for.

Chris and Ethan were harder to place than Hans, who got maintenance right along side Pyle. He seemed to have more knowledge in technology and so he was perfect for the job.  The Terran brothers, however - well, they got stuck swabbing the deck until Gaddes could figure out what to do with them.

"Man, this sucks," Chris said to his brother, slopping the wet mop onto the floor with a loud "thwap!" and contemptuously shoving it across the floorboards.

"Well... I mean, there's not much else we can do for now," Ethan said quietly.  "I mean... I'd be worthless with the... er... melef things.  And like I said before, I don't have many skills that would deal with, well... anything with this.  I mean, seriously... I play guitar.  That's, like... it."  He sighed softly, shaking his head, mopping the floor.  He couldn't really complain about it, even if he didn't like it.  He really didn't have many useful skills to use around here.

For the moment, a thunderous rumble coming from Chris' stomach interrupted their train of thoughts. Chris stopped and looked down at himself, placing a hand on his abdomen before making a face that suggested something of deep sorrow and regret - almost comical. "Geez. . . I need something to eat that more substantial than dried fruit and meat." He blanched, "What I wouldn't give for a large, thick, juicy steak dripping in tangy juices and a hot steamy pile of mashed potatoes just slopped in butter . . . maybe some vegetables. Broccoli - no! Carrots. Also dripping in artery-hardening amounts of butter . . ."

Ethan made a face, staring over at his brother.  "Oh... that's just... ick.  Brussel Sprouts.  Yeah... with a little bit of chipotle and lots of butter rubbed all over them.  Steamed, so they'll be tender.  Mm... pork chops simmered in cream..."  Ethan swayed a little, grinning slightly.  "But I can't cook, so I guess I'm out of luck, huh?"  

For a moment, a jolt of homesickness struck him hard.  He missed Nikki, even if all she ever did was tease him, and he missed Jazz and the other boys.  He never thought he'd miss McDonalds, but there you go.  Everything there was familiar, and here... well here, he was just more of a freak then he'd been there.

"Aren't you blockheads done yet?" demanded Gaddes, silently sneaking up on them and making Chris jump in surprise. He came to a sudden stop, his front wheels popping up slightly with the effort but he recovered quickly, and continued to glare at the brothers. Chris fumbled for some sort of salute, having grown accustomed to the mannerisms that were appropriate under the command of both Allen and Gaddes after five years.

"Um - N-Not as such, no, . . . uh, sir - Gaddes, sir." stuttered Chris helplessly. Gaddes rolled his eyes, turning his chair back around and speaking over his shoulder as he left them.

"Well, get ready for the landing. We're coming up to the fort in two minutes." he said, adding under his breath, "What's left of it."

Ethan blinked, startled at the man's sudden appearance.  The boy bit down on the inside of his bottom lip lightly, glancing over at Chris.  This had been these men's home for so long... and their's for 5 years.  He wouldn't doubt that the appearance of it might bring forth a little chagrin towards Hans.  

But, Ethan reasoned with himself, they'd spent enough time with him recently to know that he was, really a good guy.  Albeit a little depressive sometimes, but he did truly feel sorry for the atrocities that had been committed here.

The ship lurched, and a rumble came from deep within the hull, followed by a dull whining noise that indicated the use of the propellers to steer them to a safe landing upon the ground. Chris ran to the nearest window then, and saw their gentle decent into the murky swamplands where Fort Castelo once stood. A quick search revealed the ruined fort in the distance, not too far from where he could see they were about to land.

 It was hard to tell from this distance, but from what he could see - the fort lay in nothing but useless piles of broken stone and timber.

 "Well, at least I don't see any Basram ships around." he muttered, mostly to himself.

Ethan walked quietly over to his brother's side, a half tremble crawling up his spine.  It was so creepy to see it like that, when it had been standing so proudly when he'd first seen it.  Creepy... and disheartening.  This really was a war they were involved in.  They were quickly pulled into an actual war.  People were dying, whether or not he liked it.

 Without really realizing it, he'd curled his fingers around his brother's arm, long hair draping over his shoulders as he stared out at the ruined building.  He could only imagine the pain the other men were feeling at that moment, as they saw the place they, themselves, had built.

~

  Gaddes sat in his chair, at the very front of the bridge and scrutinizing the landscape warily. He swallowed as he saw the ruins come into view, gripping the rims of his wheels anxiously and wishing he could just jump right through the glass and run to it. For what reason, he couldn't even begin to explain. But the sight filled him with a morose kind of feeling, and contempt for Basram, for Hans. He still didn't like the man, but he'd tolerate him for his family's sake. Allen and Angelina were his family, now - and for them, he would do anything within his power.

Allen wasn't sure he completely trusted the man, but Angelina never would have allowed them to leave him behind.  Never.  She loved him she claimed.  And Allen had hardly ever been able to deny her anything at all.  Ethan trusted him, but Allen... even Ethan had said something about how he hadn't grown up here.  He didn't have the normal prejudices.  It was simply amazing to Allen that the boy, after what they had done to him in that camp, didn't hate them.

 Hans, himself, felt his heart wrench at the sight of the ruined fort.  Even had admitted to himself that the structure had been beautiful.  And now, by the hands of people he had fought beside and trusted, it lay in ruins.

The ship landed, Kio steering it just right into a nice flat delta a half a mile away from the ruins. At which point Gaddes turned to Allen, nodded resolutely and said, "We await your orders, Captain. Should we assemble an away team?"

"We're not completely sure there aren't any Basram soldiers about.  So we can't head out with anything showy."  Allen pursed his lips slightly, looking over at Gaddes.  "I'm asking your advice... should Hans, Ethan and Chris come along?  They're not really a part of this.  I don't think I'm ready to give the Basram a weapon... and Ethan wouldn't fight.  Chris might want to stay behind with his brother."

Gaddes thought for a moment, "Hans and Ethan should stay here. Mostly to take care of the ship and your daughter. Take Riden, who's fast on his feet in case you need to send him with orders. And Kio, he's strong." He looked down briefly, gliding forward toward him before lifting his gaze, "And me."

Allen nodded slightly, offering a little smile.  "Alright... then what to do with Chris?  Shall we leave it up to him?"  Allen turned his gaze to Gaddes, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.  The knight's uniform may have been shredded and left back on Earth, but that didn't mean he'd lost any of the regality that he'd carried when he'd worn it.

"Well, you trained him well enough with the sword, didn't you?" asked Gaddes, in a tone that suggested a relationship that was more relaxed with Allen than being his second mate and sergeant. Tapping his wheels lightly, he said, "I'm pretty useless to you, like this. I just wanted to see the fort. Take him with us to defend us in my place. I'm sure he'll be up to it." 

Allen nodded slightly, looking at Gaddes.  He smiled a little, then turned, heading back into the craft to find Chris, Ethan and Hans, explaining what was going on.  Ethan just told his brother to be careful, giving a little smile as he watched him leave.  He felt bad for watching his brother leave like that, for not being able to help.  He wanted to help Chris, but... he'd be worthless.  He was a klutz sometimes and he wasn't physically strong.

 When Allen returned, he glanced over at Gaddes and the others, inclined his head to them.  "Let's head out."


	41. One Last Kiss Goodnight

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**One Last Kiss Goodbye**

 The ground on their way to the ruins was unusually soft, indicating a recent rainfall in the area. The path was muddy and everyone's footsteps seeped into it - all except for Gaddes, who was in fact, in a wheelchair. Unfortunately, he'd needed someone to push him through the slush, uncaring if his numb feet and front casters were occasionally buried in much. His goal was clear. He wanted to see the fort. On this mission, he would be nothing more than a bystander rather than an active soldier on reconnaissance. He knew his limitations, and more than once, he needed to be carried over fallen logs or vines that got too thick.

 He felt bad when he noticed in everyone's expression how trying it began to get that he'd requested to be on the mission. But it was mostly Chris, who pushed Gaddes through a puddle of muck for the umpteenth time, that threw Allen sidelong scathing glances. He desperately wanted to ask, 'Why the hell did you agree to bringing him along?!' Knowing it was in poor taste, he was sated with making faces, pushing along with the sword clanking lightly at his belt.

Allen stalked at the head of the group, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.  He was alert, but he had one thing on his mind.  He had to see the fort... or what was left of it.  Calm determination was settled on his pretty features, long hair swaying behind him with his movements.  He looked every part the knight, besides the lack of the smooth blue uniform he'd once donned.

He was not unaware of how Chris and the others felt about bringing Gaddes along, but he couldn't deny the brunette this.  They had lived here, rebuilt it before.  They didn't have the right to keep him from seeing it.  When they reached the fort without any occurrences, Allen paused just at the front. He was silent a long moment, looking at the charred remains.  "Right here," he whispered softly to himself, "stood the gates..."  The blonde stepped within the rubble, looking around.  "And the guard towers here and here... and the wall went all the way around--look... there's a bit of the rope that we'd used for Angelina. .."

Riden ran to catch up with his commander, a hand on the hilt of his short sword to steady it. Kio took up the rear, behind Chris as he pushed Gaddes the last stretch of the way toward what used to be the heavy timber gates of the fort. Now, all that was left were fallen logs and splintered poles that remained of it. Gaddes took a deep breath, looking around, taking it all in. He wouldn't make Chris carry him over the rubble ruin, as he in his chair would never make it. Riden hopped over some debris, catching himself before he felt, and quickly skipping to the next good foothold over the ruin.

 "Hey, boss," chirped Riden, hopping next to Allen carefully as they climbed over the stone and wood. Looking back, he noticed they were quite far into the sea of debris, seeing Kio, Chris and Gaddes watching them from the edge of it. "Boss, what should we do with the Sarge?"

"I'm not sure.  We all have our own areas to examine... we can't carry him."  Allen turned his head to look over his shoulder at the three that hung back, pursing his lips slightly.  Allen could leave it up to Gaddes, but if he chose to see more of it, what could they do?  Allen certainly couldn't carry him.  And he was rather sure Kio might have been getting tired of carrying him already.  The blonde rested a hand on the hilt, looking at them.  He wasn't sure.  All he knew was that there were places he wished to see.  Painful memories would resurface, certainly, but he had to see.

Gaddes pulled back a bit, Riden watching from the distance as he saw the sergeant point commands to both Chris and Kio - who looked at each other briefly before nodding in compliance and hopping onto the pile of debris. Soon, Kio and Chris were with Allen and Riden upon the sea of broken stone and timber, carefully balanced on loose piles of rock.

 "Sarge said to move on with out him," Kio explained, half glad he didn't have to carry the weight of his sergeant and at the same time depressed that he could not join them.

Allen looked at Gaddes for a long moment, then nodded.  "Alright... we'll meet back here in a few hours, mm?  If anything happens, shout."  With the other's agreement, he turned, wandering off, wading through the rubble.  Eventually, he came to what was left of his rooms, looking around at the debris with a soft sigh.  Everything in ruins... wandering the layout of it, he murmured to himself, envisioning the setup, the way it had looked to him.  

"Her chest would be about here," he whispered, turning his gaze to the side...

And froze.

The chest was untouched, uncharred.  It gleamed softly in the light, the finish unscratched, untouched by dust or soot.  It lay undisturbed, as if knowing he would return.  The lock was unhinged, and before the chest lay a single handprint, as if someone had braced themselves there, the soot barely disturbed, as if by the rustle of a dress, a small footprint.

An almost violent shiver crawled up his spine as he stared, his eyes wide.

"Boss," called Riden breathlessly, again having to carefully hop over debris to catch up with his long limbed commander. He came up next to him, bending over and leaning on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "You sure are limber, boss. What'd'ya find?"

Taking a moment with his lungs replenished, he looked up at Allen's face, saw the look of near horror upon it, and furrowed his brow. He touched Allen's arm lightly, tugging on the gauzy sleeve of his poet's shirt. "Boss? What's wrong?"

Allen stared at the gleaming chest for a little longer before he turned his eyes to Riden, shaking his head.  "You... you see it, right?"  Over his shoulder one could see the chest, proudly settled where it had always been.  He wanted to make sure he wasn't hallucinating again.  It had to be real... the imprints there before the chest, the undisturbed setting of it.

He knelt down before the chest, careful not to upset the imprints in the soot, one gloved hand clasped over his heart.  He could feel the rough, racing beat of it as it hammered against his ribcage.  The blonde bowed his head slightly... if he had never believed in a god before, now it had to be so.

"I - I didn't bother . . ." Riden stuttered, following his gaze as Allen moved. There he saw the immaculate chest, totally clean and polished. Riden blanched, wide eyes staring as he spoke in a breathy wonder, "Holy Jechia! Is - Isn't that . . . the chest you kept in your room?! It's . . . gods, it ain't even scratched!" He came forward, excitedly reaching a hand to touch the wonderous thing before - so pristine, that it nearly seemed to glow.

Allen shook his head a little, unmoving.  "I can't believe it... do you see the handprint?  It's like... it's like someone was here when it happened, Riden."  Allen lifted his gaze to look at the piece, cerulean eyes glittering in the light.  Celena... maybe she really was an angel.  I can't believe it's so... it's still here."

The blonde shifted forward, carefully lifting the lid off of it.  All the dresses lay within, still folded carefully within.  For another few moments, he stared at it, then shut it, locking it quietly.  They... they would take it back with him.  

Allen stood, looking over at Riden.  "Come here... there's something I have to see."  With that, Allen started off, his footsteps quick, hurried, hopping through the rubble carefully.  It was obvious where he was headed... where the fallen soldiers lay buried, where they had lain Celena.

Again, Riden had no choice but to hastily follow his commander, tripping awkwardly over fallen logs and turning over several stones. Allen was already several paces ahead of him when he fell hard in trying to keep up, his arm hitting the hard edge of a jutting stone. He heard the crack of his bone before he felt the pain. 

 White hot agony seeped into his every being, and he cried out. "Boss!" Carefully, blinking back tears, he nursed his arm, holding it close and situated himself upon the debris so that he could sit. His head swelled from the pain, and he tried very hard not to cry from it.

At the other's cry, Allen turned, hand on the hilt of his blade instantly.  But a quick look offered the explanation that it was a wound caused by his own faltering.  Another man out for at least a little bit.  Quickly, Allen navigated his way through the rubble, kneeling by Riden's side.  "Can you walk?"  It was obvious the other man's arm hurt... badly.  If he could walk, he'd send him back to Gaddes' side.  If not... he wasn't sure that he'd do.

 He brushed a gloved thumb against the smaller man's cheek, offering a little smile.  "We'll get you fixed up."

Riden swallowed, bashfully lifting up his gaze and wincing slightly as his broken arm moved. "Okay, boss." He looked down, that same child-like expression of such sadness filling his features - as it had been ever since this war started. "I'm sorry," he sniffed, "I didn't mean to break my arm . . ."

"It's okay, Riden, don't worry about it, okay?  Things happen.  I was just too focused on where I was going.  It's my fault for making you try and keep up."  The blonde man smiled, looping an arm about his waist, tugging him gently up to his feet.

Riden nodded, carefully keeping the broken appendage close to his chest. He took a deep breath, surveying the ruined landscape to get back to the ship before turning his gaze back to his commander. Absently, he wiped away the tears that watered his eyes. "I'll stay with you, boss." he said, trying to sound firm like his big friend Kio.

Allen just smiled softly, nodding  "Alright... I'll make sure to go a little slower, alright?  Just let me know if you need to rest or anything."  Allen kept his arm around the other man's waist, letting him lean on him if the pain got too bad.  He took his time, going far slower to accommodate Riden.  He didn't want to rush him...

With careful maneuvering, cautious stepping, they eventually arrived to the other end of the ruins of the fort, to the back where the wet, sloppy ground began again. And there in the corner, against where a wall once stood, was the ruins of a wrought iron fence, irreparably bent and missing in some places. Caskets that were buried deep within the ground had risen up, sticking out at their ends in an eerie calm. They had to step over the fence carefully, Riden still protecting his arm. 

It was a mess. There had been at least a hundred graves in that yard, and at nearly each of them, a rotted old box casket rose up through the surface, mud crowding around it, building on it, marring it all. The day was already bad enough, promising rain later with the heavy gray clouds the floated thickly over head. While it was uncomfortable to see so many caskets situated above the surface at odd ankles, like oddly growing geometric trees, Riden was most shocked and awed by the casket in the middle of the graveyard. The one that he himself, among the other members of the Crusade, had built and helped bury.

 Celena Schezar's coffin, white maple now so marred by the mud that had produced it from the ground, coming out of the ground at almost a prone angle. It was as if it floated up to the surface, and now lay frozen in the muck like a land locked boat.

Allen quickened the pace just slightly at the sight of the coffin that rose in the middle.  Still careful, wary of the muck, Allen headed towards it.  Making sure Riden was alright on his own once they reached it, Allen let go of him, treading carefully to the casket, uncaring of the mud that stained his normally pristine clothes.  He'd have a hell of a time getting out of it, with the thick, watery substance sucking at him as he moved.  

 A stained, gloved hand rested on the edge of the coffin for a long moment.  He debated it, debated opening it.  his stare was hard at the wood, though he found no faults in it.  No one had opened this one.

A moment longer and the blonde grabbed a vine, dragging himself out of the mud.  He grasped the heavy coffin tightly, slowly tugging it out with him.  When it hit harder ground, when he'd finally been able to stand, he searched about for something to wedge it open with.  After a bit of wandering, he found a shard of the gate that had been blasted apart from it.  Long enough to hold, to have leverage.  He snatched it up, heading quickly back towards the casket and set about prying open the nailed lid.  Sacrilege, he knew, whispering soft apologies under his breath as he worked at the lid.

Nails were worked up, squeaking as they were pulled from the wood like errant teeth, releasing the lid one by one until finally - it popped up and fell to the coffin's side. Vivid sky blue taffeta was the first thing to catch the eye, lined in white lace and gold. Untorn, not a rip of the seam or tear in the bodice as it gently hugged Celena's dainty waistline. It glittered, shining slightly even in the dim overcast lighting, surrounding her body in it's lovely folds. She'd been buried in the wintertime, and so she was buried with a long sleeved dress - sleeves that were not so abundant, and were obviously for show. 

 Melzin had always kept flowers underground in his apothecary, so that they would grow no matter what season it might have been. He even had forget-me-nots, as they had a medicinal quality for being a sedative. A bundle of the tiny blue flowers had been placed into Celena's white porcelain hands - hands that now . . . were still smooth as silk and white as ivory.

 Her face. It was in complete peace, unmarred and untouched by time and decay. Her cheeks still demurely flushed, her lips still pink as roses, her eyes closed in slumber, and her hair . . . shining silver curls crowned her head, framed her face and practically made her glow.

 She was the very image of an angel.

"By... Jechia," he breathed softly, hesitantly reaching out his hand to almost brush her cheek before he paused, jerking off the soiled glove.  He'd cut open his hands in places from his frantic work, but he didn't care.  He brushed his fingers lightly against her unmarred cheek, his eyes widening.  It was like she'd only been buried a day ago... nae... like she'd never been dead at all.  It was almost as if any moment, she would flutter her eyes open and sit up, like she would simply smile at him and hug him...

 No.  No, she was dead.  The cool touch of her flesh was not one of warm blood pumping in those veins.  Allen bit back tears, gliding his fingers through her hair--hair so much like Angelina's own.  

Beautiful.  She was simply and utterly beautiful.

Holding his arm to chest, Riden came up then, still in shock from the rest of the graveyard and now rendered completely speechless at the sight of Celena's unsoiled corpse. The soldier's compassionate little heart beat heavily in his chest at the sight of her pure features, her beauty. In how she clutched the bundle of forget-me-nots to her chest against the bodice of her lovely blue and white gown. 

 "L-Lady Celena . . ." choked Riden, placing a hand at the edge of her casket and staring down at her where Allen now stroked her hair. "She's - boss. What's going on?"

"I don't know," he choked out softly, shaking his head.  "She should... it shouldn't be like this by now."  He didn't understand much about the decomposition of bodies, but even with that... by five years, near six... she should have been past this.  Far past this.  But her body was no more brittle or fragile than it had been before.  He was afraid to lift her from the casket.  But now that he'd seen her as such... he couldn't leave her, could he?  And the casket would be too hard to carry himself.

The blonde bit down on his bottom lip lightly, looking at her.  Why every time he'd been able to move past this, when he'd been able to continue on with his life did this pain resurface?  Why, always, did her memory come back to haunt him, to send him spiraling once more into a moroseness, a distance.

"Boss," cried the little soldier, his voice so soft and timid, "You're not ... gonna leave her here, are ya?"

"I can't... no, I can't," he whispered softly.  A few more moments he stood there before he moved, hooking his arms under her legs and at her back, carefully lifting her and holding her close to him.  He couldn't leave her there, not like that.  Allen glanced over at Riden, tears lingering in his eyes.  "Let's... let's go back, okay?"

Riden nodded numbly, following his captain carefully back over the debris. They had to move slowly now, with Allen's precious cargo and Riden's broken arm. 

~

When they'd reached the others on the other side of the ruined fort, everyone was in the same shock as Allen and Riden were still in - watching Celena in the knight's arm as if she were about to come back to life any moment, her pretty curls still bouncing with each step, her hands still holding the flowers, her face in peaceful slumber - as if she were dreaming of something beautiful and whimsical.

 Somehow they were able to make it back to the ship, and those with Allen followed quietly behind him as he carried the late Schezar through the corridors of Crusade. Gaddes was ahead of the group that followed, pushing his wheels forward with occasionally bringing up a hand to wipe away more tears that spilled passed his cheeks.

 "Where are we gonna put her?" he strained.

Allen shook his head slightly.  He had no idea.  He just knew he couldn't leave her there, he just couldn't...

 Ethan bit down on his bottom lip, quietly speaking up.  "She... I'll sleep elsewhere you can put her in the room I'm staying in."  Though the thought of having slept in the same bed as where they would put the long-since-dead girl was creepy, eerie... he couldn't help it.  She had been beautiful and still was.  

 The blonde nodded slightly to him, offering a thanking smile, moving past everyone to the room.  He rested her gently on the bed, brushing his fingers against her cheek then turned, walking back out.  "I shan't be long," he said softly, then slipped outside of the craft again.  The chest.  He had to bring the chest, he felt

Chris looked at Ethan, at a complete loss, staring after the knight as he left and the back towards Ethan's bed, where Celena now lay. He shook his head, not wanting to leave her - he had had a crush on her at one point, after all. A trembling hand found his brothers arm, and he gripped it.

 "What the hell is going on here, Ethan?" he whispered, "This is almost too much. She's not - not rotting or anything. And it's been nearly six years...."

Ethan bit down on his bottom lip, looking over at Chris and shaking his head.  "I... I don't know.  It's not natural at all.  She shouldn't be like that."  Truth be told, he was a little frightened of it.  For her to be so perfect... she looked exactly the same as she had the day they'd buried her.

"Get the hell out of that room now and leave her the fuck alone." came Gaddes' harsh tone from just outside the room. Chris jumped at his voice and quickly fumbled to comply, pulling his brother out and shutting the door. He looked down at the sergeant where the man sat in his wheelchair, gulping slightly. He could probably still knock me down to the floor with one strike, thought Chris as Gaddes looked at them shrewdly through narrowed eyes.

 "And guard this door. Both of you. No one goes in. Got it?"

Ethan sighed softly, bowing his head a little.  He nodded slightly to the older man.  But he couldn't get his mind off  her face, how perfect she'd looked.

 It wasn't much later that Allen returned with the chest.  He'd had to move slowly, carefully, but he'd brought it.  Ethan was startled at how untouched that, as well, was.  Frightened of it.  There were things at work that science didn't explain... of course, many things in this world were so.

~

 Angelina had been put to sleep in her father's bed for the afternoon while Hans was busy with his duties. She heard the door open, and it startled her awake. Scuffling of boots, of men entering the room that she could not see, frightened her slightly and so she hid among the covers of the bed, hoping they would not notice her. Angelina's logic suggested that if they didn't touch her, they couldn't really see her unless she spoke - such was the thinking of a five year old blind child.

"F-Father?" she whispered, risking to break her cover yet her voice remained very small and timid.

Allen blinked, glancing over at his daughter.  "There's no reason to be frightened, Princess.  It's only me and Kio."  The blonde smiled softly once they'd settled the chest down, walking over to his daughter, brushing her hair with his fingers.  "I thought you were asleep, I'm sorry if we woke you up." 

She touched his hand as soon as he'd made contact with her, taking it in her gasp and holding it tightly before her chest. She had truly been frightened. "I couldn't smell you . . . I didn't know it was you. What was that big noise? Did you bring something? It sounded big."

"It's... your mother's chest, princess.  We're bringing it with us, there's no need for you to worry, alright?  We'll go back home soon."  Allen sighed a little, curling his bare hands in hers.  He did not smell of rosewater, no, nor were his clothes immaculately clean as they usually were.  He smelled of dirt and mud, mixings of the swamp, soot.  He smelled dirty, unlike the soft, clean scent he usually had.

"You found mother's chest with her dresses?" she asked curiously, happy that he had found it and ignorant to the fact that it should have been thoroughly destroyed along with the rest of the fort. Kio pointedly left them alone, his clobbering footsteps fading down the hallway after shutting the door politely behind him.

 "Father, can we look through it? I know - I know you don't like to. Because mother hurt you with leaving us. But I want to feel her dresses, father. Please?" 

"I..."  Allen sighed softly.  He had intentions of burning it when they reached home, when they reburied her.  He could do her this favor now.  He picked her up in his arms, carrying her over to the chest and lifting the lid off.  He set her down before it, putting her hands on the top dress.  "That one I bought for her when we were living in Palas."

~

 Allen didn't spend time doing much of anything except keeping his daughter company. Everyone on the ship figured it was triggered by his sister's untouched and beautiful corpse being aboard the Crusade, just in Ethan's room. Not even Gaddes saw much of him for most of the whole trip back to Palas, where Celena was taken and settled into Allen's bed while proper funeral arrangements could be made for her.

 Chris and Ethan continued to be in charge of guarding the room in which she was kept, keeping their word that nothing, no one would ever disturb her eternal slumber. They were given specific instructions not to let anyone in, except, of course, Allen himself. Not even Gaddes was allowed inside, though he made several subtle complaints. It wasn't his place to be there anyway, though he'd grieve on his own time.

 It really wasn't any surprise to Chris or Ethan that Allen had stepped inside, the morning on the day before she was to be buried in the graveyard overlooking the gorgeous Asturian oceans.

He'd come frequently to see her face, to stroke her cheek.  When he did see to her body, he'd stay there for hours, talking softly to an ear that could not hear him.  He didn't mind... he knew she was dead, but he could tell her of her daughter.  Of how much she adored the dresses he'd shown her... and how much Allen loved to remember her in them.

He did not whisper to her as if she could hear him now.  He knew... he knew she was gone from him.  But the mystery of her lack of decomposition was amazing nonetheless.

In that morning, a subtle difference was noticed in her usually placid demeanor - and in a fluttering of lovely black lashes, Celena's eyes slowly opened and focused on her brother. Her delicate pink cheek was stained demurely with a blush, and her perfectly curved lips turned up into a smile. "Good morning, Allen," she whispered, her voice like a dream and her eyes sparkling like sapphires; bright and alive.

Allen just stared at her, his eye widening slightly.  She... she was dead.  She had to be.  He'd gotten over this, he couldn't be hallucinating again.  His ungloved hand had rested softly against her cheek, now curved to lightly cup it.  His mind whirled, confused.

Celena giggled at his confusion, scrunching up her nose as her short silver curls tickled along her forehead. She set aside her bundle of forget-me-nots and sat up, still giggling. "Well, aren't you going to give me a kiss?" she laughed lightly, bringing up her hand to caress his cheek.

"You're dead, Celena," he whispered in shock.  "You've been dead for nearly six years, you can't be moving.  You can't be talking to me like this."  Allen shook his head in disbelief.  

Then she said something that probably would have shocked any perfectly sane, brave man to jump and claw ravenously at the ceiling, "I know that quite well, thank you very much for reminding me."

Allen started, staring at her for a long moment before he stood, taking a few steps back.  He was... frightened of her.  This betrayed laws of science that even he knew.  Religion... his faith had been shattered but now... what could be going on?  Allen put a hand to his head, frustrated.  He could not be hallucinating again, damn it.

"*What* in the world is the matter?" she demanded softly, frustrated that he still had not given her a kiss good morning. She let out a heavy sigh, standing and approaching him; was put off even further when he continued to move several paces backwards. "Oh, for goodness . . . I'm given one day to say goodbye and this is how I'm welcomed? Hmph, and I thought you'd be grateful."

Allen slid down the wall, his back against it, tucking his head into his hands.  "I can't be seeing you, not again.  This isn't happening," he whispered to himself, his lithe frame trembling softly.  This... couldn't be happening.  

Celena's brow furrowed in concern, kneeling before him and placing a gentle white hand upon his arm. "My poor darling. You're frightened. I'm sorry," and it really did sound as if she meant it, moving forward and giving him a tender embrace, "Please forgive me for hurting you so badly. Those last days . . . we hardly had any time for each other, did we? I'm so very sorry, my love."

Allen hesitantly slipped his arms around her, afraid to touch her, afraid that he would just be hallucinating all over again.  But before she had told him that she'd never been dead.  Now, she knew it... she had... one day?  "It's... I miss you so much," he whispered hoarsely into her shoulder.

"I know you do." she said with a soft smile playing across her lips. She pulled back slightly, gazing down into his distraught face and pushing back some stray hair behind his ear. "But you haven't exactly been all that lonely, now, have you? Poor, poor Gaddes. Oh, Allen, I'm so sorry about him. It truly is a horribly world to live in sometimes."

"I... he..."  Allen sighed, shaking his head.  "He doesn't deserve this... he doesn't deserve to be like that.  Angelina doesn't deserve to be blind... gods, Celena, she keeps saying she's in love with the Basram soldier.  I don't know what to do..."

Carefully, she settled herself next to Allen on the floor and leaned lazily against the wall. She'd had a very long nap, it seemed. Taking his hand into hers, now warm and tender in it's grasp, she gave him a little smile, leaning in to give him a fond snoodle. "I know you don't. But no one really knows all the answers, do they? If they did, everything would be perfect, and no one would be very happy. Gaddes doesn't deserve what he has to live with. And our daughter does not deserve to be blind. You're right, of course. But bad things happen to good people. And they'll be alright, I think. Even if Angelina grows up to marry a Basram soldier, after this whole war is over - everything will eventually turn out right in the end. You'll see."

"But you'll still be dead in the end," he said softly, looking at her, curling his fingers lightly around hers.  He didn't want her to be dead... but if she stayed somehow, it wouldn't be fair to Gaddes.  There was another chapter in his life that was to be dedicated to Gaddes and Angelina.  "He... he is a good man," he said after a long pause, bowing his head slightly.  "He never hurts her."

Celena nodded. "Yes, I know. And in turn, she is the only one who has shown him any kindness. My dear brother, your heart has grown so hard since I've been gone. Have I hurt you so badly to make you grow cold to the world?"

"I... I don't know.  Everything that's happened, it hurts too much, Celena.  It hurts so much that I can hardly feel the compassion I did before.  I hate it... I hate the fact that I've, that everything has changed this much."

She smiled demurely then, looking down at her legs which were folded under the vivid light blue taffeta of her dress. She gently squeezed his hand. "Is there something I could do to comfort you and bring you out of your melancholy?" she nudged his shoulder playfully with her own, biting her lip as her smile widened, "Cheer you up a bit?"

Allen just smiled a little.  "Just... talk with me.  Please?"  The blonde turned his gaze to her, sighing softly.  "I've wanted to hear your voice again, you know."  He reached up, stroking her cheek softly.

Celena blinked at his touch, quirking a small grin and leaning into it. "I'm talking now, aren't I?" She giggled, that same silver bell giggle and laughter that had coursed through their home so many years before. "What would you wish to talk about, my love?"

"I don't know," he said softly, smiling sheepishly.  "Just anything.  I just want to hear you, is all."  The blonde just looked at his sister, watching her.  Fear still lingered, but it had mostly eased.

"On the floor?" she asked, an eyebrow raised in suspicion though her face was full of the same humor she'd carried when she still lived.

Allen smiled softly, shaking his head.  "Anywhere.  It doesn't matter to me.  I told you, I want to hear you is all."  Again, he brushed her cheek with his thumb tenderly.

She giggled and stood up, still holding his hand and tugging Allen to his feet as well. Playfully, she pinched the wire rims of Allen's glasses and shook them a little. "Why? You can see me now, can't you?" She poked him in the stomach and tickled his sides.

Allen laughed a little, putting his arms loosely around her waist.  "I can see you... but it's not the same.  I... I miss your voice so much."

"Ah!" she said, kissing him lightly upon his lips before skipping over to the bed. She launched herself upon it, landing in the soft mattress, her silver curls flying about her head as she laughed. "Shall I sing to you then?"

"Yes," he said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her.  "Yes... sing to me."

They were interrupted by a loud grumbling noise, however, that came directly from Celena's stomach. Her hand found her abdomen, the same place where she carried their daughter, that now called quite clearly for something to it. "Oh," she groaned, slumping slightly, "Maybe after breakfast?"

"Ah... you're hungry?"  Allen blinked, quirking a brow.  She was dead.  Why would she need to eat?  Allen looked a little confused.

"Well, yes, Allen. I get hungry. You know, eating food, having meals, the whole bit." she explained sarcastically, throwing him in annoyed look. She really was hungry, and his questioning delayed her breakfast.

"But... you're dead," he said plainly, looking at her.  It still didn't explain why she needed to eat.  Allen blinked a little, shaking his head slightly.

Celena sighed dramatically. Honestly, even her scholarly brother could be so dense sometimes. "Look, I know I *was* dead, but I'm alive now, for a whole day, and if I don't get something to eat, I'll - well, okay, I won't die of starvation. But I'm really very hungry. I'll - I'll . . . I'll pop your eye out." She nodded resolutely, marking her statement with a final harrumph.

Allen just looked at her, slowly arching a brow.  "Are you sure it's a good idea to go out there?  I mean... there are other people out there.  That might just... be a little frightened."

She rolled her eyes and threw him another of her signature grins, "What do I look like? Someone who's *not* lazy?"

Allen sighed, shaking his head a little, standing.  He slipped outside, walking to the other rooms, getting a bit of food.  For himself and for her... he caught glances from the others.  He rarely ate very much... but now, he was getting food for two people... and they just didn't know it.

 When he came back, Celena was poking around her trunk. She'd brought out her favorite dress, a day gown of light blue with white and gold collar she'd worn one day with gloves. Affixed to her body as she gazed at it in the mirror, she saw in the reflection that Allen had come inside with a tray of breakfast - from the looks of it, it was cold turkey and fruit bowls with two glasses of juice. She smiled, sniffing again at her dress as she'd detected the heavy odor of his cologne on it.

 "Why does my dress wreak of your cologne?" she asked as he closed the door.

Allen glanced over, blinking... then he managed a small, almost wry grin.  "Angelina.  She apparently likes the way I smell.  She'd gotten into the chest and pulled out that dress--which I might add, I am very pleased to see how well it fits you--and managed to spill my cologne onto it."

 He set the tray down, letting his fingers glide softly over the skirt of the gown.  But it was like they had melded, the two of them, in some strange way.

Celena lifted her chin, still smiling her perfect smile and only had eyes for Allen. "Angelina did that? She must have gotten it from me." She smirked, and pulled Allen into her arms, letting them hang loosely around his narrow waist. She was forced to look up at him then, and it made her scrunch her nose. "You were always so tall. I love how tall you are, like a great pillar of undying strength. You were always so protective of me. How I loved you for it."

Allen smiled softly, resting his hands on her shoulders lightly, then tracing one into her curls.  It was hard to believe that for a day, even, she was alive here, that she was moving and talking to him.  That if someone entered, it wouldn't be him hallucinating, it would be true.  "You were my strength," he said softly, looking fondly at her.

The look in his eyes, how sad it seemed to her. The fondness of a love long since passed, and she had to wonder if this gift, her visit for a day, was blessing or curse. Was it cruel to stir his emotions, she wondered. She kissed him them, quickly closing the distance between them, standing up on her toes and meeting his warm lips tenderly with her own.

He sighed softly, holding her.  He knew he would feel horrible when they had to bury her again.  He would have been fine... but now the emotions had welled up all over again.  She was here with him, she was touching him, talking to him, kissing him... and he would lose her all over again.  He brushed his fingers against her cheek softly.

Pulling back, reluctant to break the kiss but doing so anyway, she cupped his face and looked at him very sadly. "I'm sorry, Allen." she began in a melancholy tone, "I must admit, that it was partly my decision to be here one last time. I was selfish and impatient, and I'm so very sorry for doing this to you."

"No... I... I want to see you again.  It's okay," he said softly, shaking his head.  It would cause him pain again, but... he could see her again.  So it was worth it, right?

Celena nodded resolutely then, trying to convince herself that she'd made the right decision in doing this. This one last chance to conclude everything properly; a final goodbye. "We have much to talk about. I don't even know where to start." She took his hand and led him over to the bed, settling herself upon the downy mattress. "Since I have the whole day, I'll let you decide. It's morning now. Is there anything that might be on your mind?" She made a face, "Besides the fact that I've scared you shitless just being here..."

Allen sighed, sitting next to her.  "I... I'm not sure.  There's so much to talk about.  I can't think straight... this is all so unexpected."  The blonde bowed his head slightly.  "I guess... why... why are you still like this, even after 5 years...?"

To this, Celena smiled pleasantly, letting out a soft little laugh. She touched his face, and gazed at him fondly, her heart swelling with her love for him. "It is our blessing." she explained plainly.

"But how," he asked, looking at her.  "It's... it can't be physically possible."  Granted, there she was before him, but it was still so hard to believe.  "Our blessing...?"

She sighed heavily. "Well, it's kind of hard to explain. Okay, there's really no explanation for it. But - you can kind of say we were granted to stay our true selves after death until we found our new lives. Um, does that make sense? It's not just me. It's you too. And mother." 

"A-and mother?"  Allen blinked, frowning a little.  "I don't understand.  How... why is it happening just to us?"  Allen shook his head slightly.  "What do you mean me, as well?"

Celena sighed again, looking down at the floor thoughtfully. This was going to be a long conversation, she thought to herself. "Well, where should I start? You know how we're supposed to find a new life after this one? Be reborn?"

Allen nodded slightly, turning his gaze towards her as he listened.  The concept of it would be hard to grasp he knew... and the reality that she was here, if only for a day, was as difficult to understand, to comprehend as well.

"The way I was told it worked for us was that until we go on to that life, to be reborn, we're allowed to stay as we were the day our body dies." she explained, scooting up next to him so that she could snuggle a little. She always loved his rosewater cologne. "It's our gift, I guess. If you can call it that. Like - the gods respect us, or admire us. They gave us the gift of beauty until the moment we've decided to move on in the afterlife to be reborn. Understand now?"

"Somewhat."  Allen pursed his lips slightly, nodding.  "So... that's why you're here, then... because you haven't chosen to move onto your next life?"

"No," she answered, "Because I have . . ."

"...But you said you have one day.  So you're using this last day to say your goodbyes."

She turned her gaze to him then, her eyes sparkling with the tears that threatened to spill. Yet she smiled, happily, and leaned in close to him, to his face, and rubbed his nose with her own. "Now you understand." she told him.

Allen nodded slightly, looking at her for a long moment.  He looped his arms around her, tugging the girl close to him.  "I hope you live a happy life," he whispered softly, resting his chin on her shoulder.

She pressed her cheek into his hair, embracing him tightly. "Not nearly as happy a life as I had with you, Allen." she whispered back. "Not nearly as wonderful. Not even close."

"I can only hope you will be," he said softly, hugging her tightly.  "You deserve it... after all the hell you went through here, you deserve it and so much more."

"Nothing could describe the bitterness I felt that I'd died. When I left you behind with our daughter," she cried, "When I left you to fend for her and you alone. Or the hurt -- the absolute sorrow that I've left in your heart. There's nothing to describe it. I had to come back, one day, to tell you everything I meant to tell you and never got the chance to."

Allen shook his head a little, biting back his own tears, holding her tightly.  "I don't want to let you go again, even if I have to..." his voice shook slightly, but he valiantly controlled it.  She meant so much to him.  She couldn't have helped dying as she had.  It wasn't her fault...

"The river," she whispered, choking, "It was the river during that horrible winter time - before Basram attacked."

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault," he said softly, shaking his head.  "I promise, it wasn't your fault..."

A few painful moments went by, Celena's voice choking on her tears before she'd been able to reply at all. It was as if she read his mind with her answer, and she felt she needed to make him understand. "That was what eventually killed me, Allen."

"I don't care, Celena, it doesn't matter.  You're back for a little... we... we should bide our time well.  Not like this..."

"Then how?" she asked, pulling back and wiping away at her face, sniffling.

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head.  "but not like this, not crying like this.  You should... you should see Angelina.  I'm sure she'd love to talk to you, to meet you..."

Smiling, she rubbed her thumbs along Allen's cheek, brushing the tips of them with his wire rimmed glasses. "How old is she now, Allen?" she asked.

"Five... she's nearly six," he said softly, just smiling.  "She's beautiful, just like you are."  She looked so much like Celena it hurt sometimes... she even still, he couldn't deny her beauty.  She'd grow into a gorgeous woman.

"And . . . and Gaddes?" she said, anxious to meet her daughter, but worried for her brother's lover as well, "How is he? Might I see him too?"

Allen tensed slightly.  "He is... well... he's better than he had been before."  He sighed softly, his breath ruffling the soft curls.  "Of course you can see him if you wish it..."

"Well, from the looks of it, I'd say it's still mid-morning," she said, standing to gaze carefully out the window, pulling back a bit of the drawn curtains. She turned to Allen again, still smiling, "I'd like to see our daughter, Allen." And her eyes grew so sad, "To see how much she's grown under your care. You must have spoiled her rotten with gifts, if I know you well enough."

"Mm," he said softly, standing with a quiet sigh.  "I'll go and get her."  the problem would be explaining why her mother was here... and why she wouldn't be here the next day.  He made his way quietly outside, heading to the girl's room, rapping softly on the door.  "Princess?  It's father..."

Like any energetic little girl, Angelina woke up very early to play with her toys. She was still dressed in her frilly nightgown, sitting on the floor in front of the toy chest Allen had sent from Palas. It was full of new things for her to play with, and she kept discovering new toys and dolls she couldn't quite place in the descriptions. She smiled toward her father's voice, holding up a little black haired doll from Freid.

 "Father! Is this doll fair haired or dark haired?" she asked, "I can't tell the different anymore. Uncle Gaddes has dark hair but lost the itchiness on his face." She sighed. Dark and fair completely confused her.

Allen laughed a little, slipping inside and shutting the door behind him.  "Dark haired, princess.  Come on, let's get you dressed.  You should be up and dressed already, mm?"  

 The knight smiled, kneeling down beside her, resting a gloved hand on her shoulder.

Angelina's lips pouted severely. "I don't want to get dressed yet, father. I want to play first." Hugging the doll to her chest, she made a face at him and pulled away. Why should she have to bear the burden of responsibility anyway? She wasn't a grown up and therefore refused to comply. She was a spoiled little tyke, as Gaddes would put it so eloquently.

Allen sighed, shaking his head.  "Come on, get dressed.  There's someone you need to meet, but you can't meet her like that."  Sah... if Celena got wind of this... The blonde ran his fingers through her hair gently.  "Please?  And you can play afterwards."

"I don't want to meet anyone." she insisted, standing and moving to a corner of her room. "I want to play."

"Don't be like this, Angelina," he said softly, looking at her.  Celena wanted to see her... "You'll enjoy meeting her, I promise.  For me?"  

It was something in her father's voice, desperate, quiet, pleading. A five year old didn't know such words, but their definitions didn't matter so much as the existence of them. It made a little tug at her heart, bowing her head and already feeling the guilt creep up into her head to swell and strain. The doll she held was firmly squashing against her chest, and she turned away from her corner.

 "Fine, father," she said, "Where are you?"

"Over here, princess, right by the bed where you were a moment ago."  Allen was grateful... he would have been horrified to tell Celena that her daughter wanted to play moreso than meet her.  He was wary, frightened enough of telling Angelina she was meeting her mother.

This time, Angelina obeyed her father, having gone to him and let herself be tugged into a little dress. It was her favorite one, she noted. The one with stitches all over the fabric that she could feel and run her fingers over, embroidery that drew whimsical swirls in her head as she traced their fine silky lines. It was a new dress, as all of her dresses were new since they left the fort. But this was a special dress, only to be worn on special occasions.

Little white tights were covering her little legs, pantaloons tugged on, and eventually a pair of little black shoes. Her rag ties were undone to let her curls fall and bounce in crisp ringlets, and to big bows were placed on either side of her head. She already felt like one of her dolls with her hair done as it was, and dressed as she was made her feel it more so.

Allen looked at her for a long moment, a proud smile on his lips.  "You're so beautiful, princess, you know that, right?"  The blonde stroked her hair softly, standing, her hand grasped loosely in his.  Recently she'd wanted to walk more and more on her own... and he couldn't blame her.  She was nearly six, after all.

When she was ready, he led her quietly to the room where Celena waited, opening the door.

"Well, hello," said Celena softly, as soon as the door was shut behind them. Her eyes lingered upon the image of her little girl, the child she'd borne from her own body. Watching as Angelina stood holding Allen's hand, squirming a little, but so pretty in her little pink embroidered dress and silver curls - the same that crowned Celena's own head - she couldn't help but think how perfect, utterly and immaculately perfect their daughter was.

With eyes that glistened tearfully, she approached Angelina slowly and stopped, kneeling before her. Angelina's face softened in curiosity at the sound of Celena's voice, her head slightly tilted and letting her ringlets fall over her face. She sniffed the air, able to detect something so minute but important. And what she said then thoroughly surprised both Allen and Celena.

"Mother?" she asked with a smile. Celena's eyes darted to Allen briefly, before breaking out into a smile and crying, holding Angelina so very close and tight. While the little girl was surprised by the hug, she quickly relented and threw her arms around her, her hair flowing over Celena's arms in silver waves.

"That's right, Angelina." sobbed Celena, "I'm your mother."

Allen was silent, watching them and he couldn't help but wonder at how alike they were.  Unlike in his son, nothing of him seemed to linger in Angelina.  But he didn't mind so much.  She took on Celena's life and continued it.  She was... perfect.  No matter that she was blind, she was perfect nonetheless.

Together, they were amazing... both of them so beautiful, so perfect.  

The blonde let them talk, let them hug and he simply watched.  It was something he had pictured before, but never... never dreamed of ever seeing it, the two of them meeting.

During their moments together, several questions had been asked. Mostly of what Angelina was up to, the names of her dolls, meeting the Fanelian princess and princes, and their wings. Celena was horrified that they had treated her so cruelly, but was glad that Allen had been there to take care of her. Children were cruel, she knew that well enough.

 As Angelina had settled into her mother's tender hold, laying on the bed with Celena's arm around her, she had asked the question that was the most important. "Why did you leave us, mother?" she had asked, her quiet voice breaking through the stillness. Celena was so very gentle and loving, her fingers stoking Angelina's cherubic little cheek and gave her a little squeeze.

 "I'm sorry, my darling," she had answered, "I was on a very grand adventure, you see. I couldn't come back until now. I'm afraid tomorrow I must leave again, as well." Angelina had protested with a heartbreaking plea, hugging her tightly as if to anchor her to the bed. All Celena could do was soothe her with gentle words. "We will meet again, my little angel. Your father has taken very good care of you, and I will always love you, and I'll always be in your heart."

Of course, Angelina sniffled and cried and protested some more - but eventually she had accepted her mother leaving. She would go on another grand adventure, so she had been told, and with reassurances that they will in fact meet again, she was able to leave her mother's side once again. By then, it was already mid-afternoon. They had shared a lunch together before it was time for Angelina's nap.

 Allen carried Angelina back to her bed, as she had fallen asleep in his room. When he came back again, Celena was sitting in Allen's armchair, curled up and sobbing quietly to herself.

Allen shut the door quietly behind him and upon seeing Celena's upset, padded over to her side and perched lightly on the arm of the chair.  He slipped his arms around her, pulling her into a gently, soothing hug.  He didn't speak, there was no need to, after all.  All that mattered at the moment was soothing away her tears, holding her, comforting her.  It would be his last chance, surely, this day to hold her like this, to feel her so close.

 Blonde hair draping over his shoulders and spilling against hers in a wash of gold, the knight rested his head lightly atop hers as he held her, rocking her slightly.

"She's so beautiful," she cried, whispering hoarsely and clutching him. Her heart was breaking as much as Allen's was, she was sure. "We made such a beautiful creature, Allen. So beautiful. Poetry couldn't - couldn't even describe her perfection."

"I know, Celena, I know... she's perfect, just as much as you are," he whispered softly, closing his eyes behind the wire-framed glasses, arms carefully around her frail form.

She smiled then, pulling back just enough to gaze at her brother, her husband, and wipe away his tears with her thumbs. Letting out a little, heartbroken laugh, Celena brought her nose to his and snoodled him. Then she kissed him tenderly and stroked her fingers gently through his hair.

"We did pretty good, didn't we?" she said tearfully.

"We most certainly did," he said softly, giving a little smile.  "We were lucky."  To have been blessed enough to see one another again, to be blessed with the support they'd had from Ethan and the others, to be blessed with such a perfect creature as their daughter.

She laughed again, her eyes sparkling as they gazed at her knight, her Allen. Celena caressed his face, like she had so many times before, all those years ago before she'd died. "For once, something good finally happened to us. Angelina is the most perfect child I've even seen. And . . .," she took a breath, her heart aching with the words she needed to say, "I'm sure you'll continue taking good care of her. You and Gaddes together." She smiled sadly, "You're a very good father, Allen."

"Only because I've had someone to help me.  More than just one.  Everyone here, everyone at the fort.  Even... the Basram."  As much as he hated to admit it, Hans had helped her quite a bit.  He'd taken care of her in the camp, according to her, he'd never hurt her once.  Always so gentle with her.  It was as if he viewed her as one of her dolls, so pretty and fragile.

"I know you had help," she confirmed gently, nodding in agreement. Letting her hand curve to his face, she looked him straight in his lovely sapphire eyes, glad that they could once again see, and said, "But what I mean is that *you* are a very good father."

Allen sighed softly, shaking his head a little.  "She's so stubborn because I've spoiled her.  I can hardly say no... that's not a good father."  Allen smiled a little sheepishly, looking at her.

"Her looks are a bit disarming, I'll admit," said Celena, standing from the chair and tugging Allen up to join her. "But I know you have a very good heart, and so does she. She might be spoiled, but you love her so much. That's what makes a good father. As long as she has you to love, and as long as you teach her to be kind and caring - she'll be alright."

Allen looked at Celena for a long moment, then hugged her gently.  "You always were so much wiser than I," he said softly, his eyes slightly closed.

Returning the affection, she only smiled gently. "I was overbearing and intolerable, at times. Even impulsive. You know that."

"And still wise nonetheless.  hush," he said softly, hugging her close.  Impulsive... it seemed to be a family trait, really.  And overbearing... and intolerable... it ran in their veins.

"Which reminds me," she said, keeping her cheek pressed into his chest and closing her eyes, "I'd like to speak with Gaddes. I know your relationship with him, and I know that he's been the only support you've had in raising Angelina after I . . . well, in any case, I'd like to see him one last time, if that's alright."

"I'm sure it would be," he said softly, inclining his head a little.  "He loved you in his own way, after all.  He's said it several times."  He brushed his thumb lightly against her cheek, a faint smile on his lips.

"Then - if you would fetch him. . . unless he's busy," she quickly added the last, knowing the other man's condition and not wanting to impede upon him - even if this was her last day on Gaea as Celena Schezar. "I'll just wait here." she said with a slight smile, stepping away and slipping onto the bed.

~

Gaddes was a little surprised when Allen insisted on his returning with Allen to his room.  The blonde was brimming with a bit of excitement, though he wouldn't tell Gaddes what from.  "There's someone you have to meet, Gaddes, come on," he said softly, walking alongside the other.

If he was even hallucinating again... Gaddes swore he'd just smack him around until he snapped out of it.  That decided, the glided quietly inside the room, glancing over at Allen, arching a brow as the blonde shut the door behind him.

Excited, happy, smiling and giggling, Celena lay upon her stomach on the bed facing the door. She had watched as Gaddes entered, wiggling her finger to him in a playful little wave. "Hi, Gaddes," she chirped.

Gaddes tensed slightly at her voice, looking at Allen for a long moment before he, too, slowly glanced over at the long-dead sister.  She was lying there... waving at him... smiling.  "Oh hell no," he said softly, rubbing at his eyes.  

He cared about Celena, sure... but he couldn't be hallucinating, too.

Celena slumped upon the bed with a grand sounding groan. "Ugh, this is getting old fast," she complained. Righting herself again and moving to the edge of the bed, she quickly explained to Gaddes the situation. One whole day to say goodbye was what it basically came down to, hastily adding in details and even a gentle touch to reassure him that she was in fact real.

"I know it's a little unbelievable," after she'd finished explaining, and now gazed sadly at Gaddes - truly taking him in for the first time since he'd entered the room, "But I'm here for now, believe it or not."

"You were dead, Celena, how do you expect him to react?" Asked Allen softly, a quiet, mild chiding, resting his hand lightly on Gaddes' shoulder.  The brunette listened with growing unease.  Dead... and then living again, if even for a day.  It seemed unnatural.  Creepy, even.  But the lingerings of death didn't cling to her... that was, perhaps one of the eeriest sensations.

He brushed his rough hand against hers sighing a little.  This would take a little bit of getting used to.

"Well, there's no time to get used to it," she said, as if reading Gaddes' mind, "I'd like to speak with you, Gaddes. I know it's odd, and I know you're more than a little scared. But it's important and there's not much time left. Okay?"

Gaddes nodded numbly to the girl's question.  He'd hear her out, no matter how creepy this was.  Allen had wanted him to speak with her and she had something to say... that was reason enough.

So, slowly she stood and moved back to Allen's armchair, settling herself in the bouncy seat which she remembered loving so much as a child. Gaddes came next to her, sort of adjacent to her before locking his wheels. She smiled sadly at him, taking his hand then and bringing it to her lips. 

"How are you?" was the first thing she could think to ask.

Gaddes arched a brow slightly at that.  Well, that certainly wasn't what he'd been expecting.  "Er... well enough," he answered a little lamely.  Allen sat on the edge of the bed, silent.

"You look different," she said, smiling fondly and touching his face, not unlike the way she had done with her brother, "Shaved, and dressed in his clothes. Thinner too."

Gaddes turned his head slightly away at that.  Looking different... in the spoken and unspoken manners.  Clean shaven and such, it was still odd to him, but even so, there was still that reminder that things had changed for him.  Things were utterly different.  He felt the gentle gloved hand upon his shoulder, soft reassurance and managed a little nod to the woman.

Seeing the sadness cross his features, Celena immediately launched herself into apologies. She took his hand into her own, rough and callused but she did not care, and pressed it to her cheek. "Oh, Gaddes, I'm sorry. You are still the handsome sergeant I've always loved, of course. You should know that. Nothing can change that, dearest Gaddes."

Gaddes shook his head a little, looking at her, the faintest trace of bitterness lingering in his voice.  "And you?"  He had to change the subject.  His changes weren't the best things to talk about with him.

"For being dead for six years, I'd say I'm doing pretty good," she replied with cheek, a sad smile on her lips and winking slightly to him. He just nodded slightly, looking at her.  She had something to say, she'd said, and thus he waited, Allen's hand resting gently on his shoulder.  It was still hard enough to believe that she was here, alive, if even for a short while.

Celena felt the room grow very warm, as this was not going as smoothly as she had initially hoped it would. But she continued anyway, taking a deep breath and hoping it would get easier for the poor man to handle. "I wanted to talk to you about my family," she began, "I know you and Allen are in love, and that you care for him . . ." It would have been a little easier if Allen hadn't been standing right there but she'd had no choice. 

Gaddes just listened silently, waiting for her to continue.  He wasn't going to speak unless he had to.  This all had a rather odd quality to it,  and even though Allen was offering comfort behind him, he was sure that after this was over, it would be Allen that would need the comfort.  He'd lose his sister a third time in his life.

But for now, his thoughts were on the matters at hand.

Finding some sort of resolve within herself, she turned toward Gaddes and took both of his hands into hers, holding them tightly, firmly, and looking deeply into his eyes. "Gaddes, listen to me. You're all that they have left. You need to take care of them in my place, okay?" She tried not to choke, not to sound tearful then, but gods, it was so hard to keep her voice steady, "You listen, and listen good. I love you very much. And I love Allen very much. And I'm not going to be able to be there for him after this. I've always loved you, and I wouldn't want any other person in the whole wide world taking care of my daughter and my brother. Do you understand?"

Numbly, the soldier nodded.  Even though things had changed drastically, he still cared for both of them.  He couldn't--and didn't want to--deny her this.  He knew Allen would be giving one of those tiny smiles back there, looking at the both of them.  The soldier curled his fingers lightly around hers.  "Yes," he said softly, forcing his voice to keep steady.

"Okay," she said, whispering and pursing her lips though she tried to smile. The smile faltered slightly, and she tried to laugh it off, tearfully. Finally, Celena relented to wiping away at her eyes. She looked to Gaddes with a softness in her sparkling eyes, scuffing his nose playfully with a forefinger. "Hey," she said to him, "You look good."

"Yeah... so do you," he said as soft as the last time.  She did, especially for being dead, after all.  Being dead.  No, she wasn't... not really, for the remainder if the day.

"Well," she smiled, opening her arms a little to him, "Do I get a hug then? Or are you just gonna sit there being creeped out for the rest of the day?"

Sitting there and being creeped out would definitely be happening, of course.  He sighed a little, embracing her gently from where he sat.  She even smelled the same, it was... eerie.

It was still awkward for him, she could tell, and somehow she'd slipped into his lap to let their embrace linger. Awkward, perhaps - but the affection was still tender and sincere. This was the very last time she would get to say anything important to Gaddes, and she had better say it before time ran out. So she nuzzled her cheek into his, and whispered into his ear.

"Take good care of my brother, Gaddes. He and you are a good match, you know. A good match. I trust you more than anyone else," and she did what she had tried so hard not to do - she'd begun to sob quietly with her words, "Please, Gaddes. Promise me to take care of him. To love him. And never leave him. And Angelina."

"I promise," he whispered, his voice trembling softly.  He would have done so even without her asking.  After all, he had been, hadn't he?  He'd pledged himself time and time again to the Schezars... and that was one thing that hadn't changed through everything.  It had come back to that.  He kept his arms comfortably around her, hugging her.

After a few moments within Gaddes' embrace, she finally looked up tearfully toward Allen. Her eyes searching and wide, tears still spilling. She managed a weak smile toward him, barely able to whisper, "I'm getting a little tired now, Allen."

Gaddes released her when Allen came to his side.  The blonde lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedside, lying her down.  "Remember, I'll love you no matter what, okay?"  He said softly, his voice trembling a little.  He was losing her again... a second time, he was losing her to death.

She groaned in defeat as she was laid upon the bed, looking up helplessly at the ceiling and blinking away at the tears that spilled. She swallowed mournfully, "We never got married . . ."

"It doesn't matter... it's just a symbol, Celena.  I love you, even without it," he whispered, brushing her hair away from her cheeks gently.  He wiped away his own tears with a shaking hand, looking at her sorrowfully.

Celena wiped at her tears, blinking again and yawning a little. "At least it doesn't hurt like a son of a bitch this time," she commented, faltering for a smile, "I don't want to leave you again. In our own way, we were always married, weren't we?"

"Language, Celena," he chided softly, a little teasingly.  "Be a lady about this."  He brushed her cheek with his fingers, kissing her forehead gently.  "We were, yes... always."

Swallowing again, she nodded, looking behind him towards Gaddes and reaching for the sergeant. "Gaddes," she beckoned softly, "Come." The soldier wheeled himself quietly over beside Allen, both men looked at her from where they were.  It hurt, to know they were losing her again.

"Allen, you come over here on the bed beside me," she said to her brother, "And Gaddes will stay right there. Yes, that's good." She barely watched as both men complied to her request, Allen settling next to her carefully, taking her right hand, and Gaddes on her left beside the bed in his chair. She yawned again. "Gosh, I'm tired. What time is it?"

"Nearly around ten, I would say," answered Allen softly, sadly, wiping the tears from his eyes again.  The sky was already dark around them.

"It's a hard thing for me to ask this, but - don't be sad," she pleaded gently, her tears betraying her, "Please don't be sad for me. I'm going to move on now, and so should you. Allen and Gaddes, you have each other, in perfect love and perfect trust." She squeezed both of their hands fondly. "Don't be sad that I loved you both. That I gave you a daughter, Allen. Don't be sad about our happy times. Be happy about them. We had many, despite our hardships." Allen shook his head slightly.  He couldn't help but be sad about it, even if she asked him not to.  Thrice he'd lost her, now, and this time the hardest.  Only a day.. they'd only had a day.

"One last kiss," she said to Allen, remembering her mother's lessons, "We must not forget what mother taught us about one last kiss goodbye. Or did you forget how thickly she'd lay on the guilt when we were little?" Allen sighed softly, leaning forward and brushing his lips gently against hers.  One last kiss goodbye.  And this time, it truly was goodbye and how much that thought hurt him so.  He stroked her cheek softly, warm tears slipping over his cheeks.

Celena had stopped crying then, letting the kiss linger with it's warmth as the darkness began to sink in. Just a gentle fatigue to slowly take her away, no pain, no agony, no labored breathing. A sigh escaped, and a contented moan. Her eyes fluttered a little, and she smiled her beautiful smile.

"Thank you," she said, snuggling into him fondly, tiredly and giving him one last sleepy, "Goodnight, Allen."

Allen curled his arms gently around her, hugging her close as he felt the breathing ease from her body.  He sobbed softly into her shoulder, the lithe frame curled in his arms.

Gaddes swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, feeling the hold he'd had on her hand relax and go limp. It was all so strange, and he found that he couldn't quite cry over her yet. Not like this, anyway. "She - she told us important things, Allen," he whispered, looking at Allen as the other man cried over Celena's thin frame, "Didn't she?"

Allen could only nod, long hair spilling over now how cold shoulders.  Important things, very important things.  Though they had known them deep down, the actual conscious realization of them hadn't registered.  

 After a bout of crying, he gently settled her down into the mattress, wiping gently at his tears.

~

So that was it. Celena had come back for one day, to give her daughter a time to meet with her and know what she looked like and what she sounded like. She had come back to tell Allen of her undying love her him, even in the afterlife. She came to tell him that she accepted Gaddes as his partner, and made them pledge to her that they would always love each other. These things were the important things, that needed to be said by her voice alone. To see her one last time and kiss her goodbye properly.

 Surprisingly, the day of her burial, there was nothing but sunshine streaming through some clouded that floated high above. The breeze held the lingering scent of salty sea brine, and when everyone finally left the filled in grave plot, Allen lingered there with Gaddes beside him. It was a beautiful spot of land, really, and it was right next to Encia's grave stone, Gaddes had noted.

 "So," braved Gaddes after a minute, looking up at Allen carefully in the mid afternoon sun, "Do you think she's happy in her new life now? Or is she still floating around somewhere in with the stars?"

"She's happy," he said softly, turning his gaze to the chest of dresses that rested beside her grave.  He would let his sorrow go with them.  The knight knelt down, watching as the bright flames licked at the wood of the piece, as the dresses and other scattered items burned within.  It was as if he was letting go of her, releasing her.  She could go on and he wouldn't hold her back here with his mourning.

 "She's as she deserves to be."

Gaddes moved slowly next to Allen, bringing his hand to rest upon the knight's shoulder gently. He gave him a reassuring squeeze before bending down and kissing his temple. No one was around to see them, so a little affection in so public a place he could risk. "I'm very proud of you, you know," he said, "And I think we'll be okay."

Allen glanced at him, offering a little smile.  "Yeah... yeah, we will be.  We'll all be okay, now."  The knight leaned back lightly against the other man, that faint smile still lingering.


	42. Reichmann's Flame

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Reichmann's Flame**

There seemed to be an everlasting peace now upon the house, now that Celena was properly laid to rest in the place where she had been born, where she had spent happy days with her brother and her mother before evil befell her. Peace. It seemed like such a dream, something so far and untouchable with the war that still brewed in lands not far from Palas.

Only a few precious days were spent in completely happiness, laughter coming back to the Schezar manor, to Riden and Kio, and Pyle. Even Chris and Ethan managed to lighten the moods. What was more surprising, was that Hans sometimes joined in their merriment. There was one night where all of them had gathered in the courtyard for a meal under the stars, having set up candles on a table, and set up the lanterns there to eat bruchetta that the cook in Allen's home was kind enough to make.

After much vino, singing of songs, and bruchetta that night, things seemed lighter and smiles were found a little more often. Even though it would not last. Angelina hardly left anyone's side, needing someone to guide her places she did not know. It wasn't unusual to see her on her Uncle Gaddes' lap. But this time she was with Hans, accompanying him outside, down the road from their home as he was sent to gather wood in the forest.

Hans was still amazed at how much they had accepted him into their little group.  How much they trusted him with the little girl near him.  As always, he had his sword with him.  Allen had shown him how to shave properly, had nudged him into the habit of drawing back his long hair to keep it neat and tidy and out of the way.  He'd cleaned up pretty well, really.  He was thinner than he had been before, leaner, some of the muscle mass had receded leaving him with a lighter build.  Nigh as much strength as before, but he was fast nonetheless.  Several times, he and Allen had taken on a bout of swordplay, much to everyone's delight.

Allen used flamboyant, quick strikes, while Hans used a larger, flatter blade, designed more for gashing and, really, taking off limbs.  It was interesting to see the two of them go at it, the two completely different styles of fighting.

Slightly roughened hand was clasped around Angelina's as they walked and he listened to her talk, that faint smile on his lips.  She really was a dear little thing... and he owed her so much.

"How far are we into the forest now, Hans?" chirped Angelina, hopping slightly beside him and feeling the ground go soft beneath each of her bounces. She was glad to be outside again, after last night's fun with singing and dancing and laughing. She sang one of the tunes now, actually, quietly under her breath - one that her own dear father had taken up with his beautiful voice.

"You get your voice from dein vater, Die Katzchen," he said softly, fondly.  She was adorable.  "Just a little ways in.  None too far.  We just got inside a few minutes ago."

The Basram smiled a bit, his hand still lightly holding hers.

Something perked in her ears, and made her stop singing, stop walking - she tugged at Hans' arm as she stopped and made him stop beside her. It was a sound, very faint, but she picked it up like a hawk could see miles below him. It was a very faint clicking sound, and a rustle of leaves not far from where they were. 

And in the distance, a deep, resonating rumble began way up in the sky toward the north. "Do you hear that?" she asked quietly.

Hans tensed slightly, inclining his head a little.  He was glad he'd had her with him.  He wouldn't have been on the alert as much as he was now.  But he was also not very happy she was there... she was in danger.  "Ja... Katzchen, stay close," he said softly, his tone offering no room for any argument.  A sword would do nothing against one of the guns... that much he knew.  Maybe the soldier wouldn't have gotten the message that he was no longer part of the army.  Maybe he would understand that he was Basram and leave them be.

Not likely... but he couldn't help but hope.

Not one, but five soldiers stepped out from behind the trees. All five of them were riflemen, now cocking their long barreled devices and aiming them at Hans. The one that seemed to be in charge, he stepped forward a little more than the others, aiming his rifle carefully as he took a step and approached. He also recognized their general's son.

 "Reichmann." confirmed the soldier, lieutenant commander as it were, and spoke in their native tongue, "You will come with us."

Hans looked at the five of them.  Two he recognized... if he didn't do as they said, they'd take out him... and likely Angelina as well.  But if he went back to the camp... Angelina would be in more danger and someone else from the Schezar manor would likely come looking for them.

"Let the child go back," he said softly, shaking his head.  "Then I will go.  She's just a child, after all."  

Angelina couldn't understand their language, that rough tongue that Hans spoke so rarely around her and her family. It wasn't hard to figure out that she was blind, and the soldiers began to enclose their escape. They had no sympathy for the girl, only caring about fulfilling their orders to the general in charge. Ironically, the father of the man they now held at gunpoint.

"I can't do that, Reichmann. You will come with us. This area is under siege. You and the girl are prisoners." said the lieutenant commander Fritz.

The young soldier pursed his lips slightly.  He didn't have time to worry about the others.  They were well-prepared, they were alright, they had to be.  Allen was strong and he had the others beside him.  He would simply do what he could to stay at Angelina's side.

With a soft sigh, the man nodded, relenting.  "Ja, then.  Very well."  With his unoccupied hand--the other still holding the little girl's--he unhooked the blade that hung at his waist, tossing it to the ground before them.  He wouldn't risk getting her into more trouble.  As he had done with his little sister years ago, Hans crouched down, picking up the girl in his arms, speaking in Asturian so she could understand him.  "Stay close to me and be good, Katzchen."

The new voices might have scared her, but with being held by Hans, so close and warm and now high above the ground, she could steel herself well enough against their unfriendly clipped tones. They were led through the forests, the soldiers flanking them and marching them quickly through the thick growth and trees. Finally, they'd reached a glen, now thoroughly destroyed as it was prepared for the landing of a large frigate.

The ship was massive and tall, and before it lay the smatterings of a camp that they had begun to erect. No insignia indicated the ship as it was, but it would not have been hard to identify for Hans. The ship was well known among his countrymen. Known as Reichmann's Flame.

Hans was silent as they walked, keeping the girl close to him.  The sight of the ship startled him.  It was massive... and his father was aboard there, he had to be.  That made dread slither up his back.  His father had always been imposing, had always been strong and stern, a harsh man.

And here he was, banished from the Basram lands, stated simply as dead to those he knew in his country.  He'd been living with the Asturians, he was wary of harming one of the Asturian children... he had been accepted by them.  His father wouldn't welcome him back, that much he knew.  But past that...

Hans clasped the girl's head to his chest, covering her sensitive ears to keep the loud sound from frightening her.

The camp was just beginning to be put together, and a crude pen was already put up and enclosed many of the locals in the area. General Reichmann wanted no one to escape the siege. While the villagers were gathered in the makeshift pen, and soldiers began to set up tents, Lt. Commander Fritz continued to march Hans while the ex-soldier held Angelina. Rifle barrel firmly between the other's shoulder blades, and quick snaps of direction, he led them to the ship, through the hull, and inside a holding cell with in it.

Hans went silently, a faint frown on his lips.  He chanced for a glance at the pen... but he didn't catch sight of anyone from the manor.  When he felt the sharp nudge of the rifle barrel at his back, he moved forward again, sighing softly.  He could only hope they weren't dead.  He slipped inside the cell quietly, tossing his head a little to get a loose piece of blonde hair back out of his eyes.  And dread settled upon him again.

~

 The ships were spotted too late in the evening sky, and Basram, it seemed, was preparing a coup de main upon Asturia's capital. Luckily, there was no fire, only the sound of cannons and rifles in the distance. Screams rose up in the air from villages nearby, from manors near the Schezar estate, before several men marching could be heard approaching. These soldiers were in brilliant green and white uniforms, and they held their rifles proudly. Their numbers were great and fanned out before reaching the manor.

 "Allen!" yelled Gaddes from the parlor, having been watching the ships fly over and feeling a growing anxiety, "We've got company coming!"

Allen was already rounding up Riden, Kio and Pyle, snatching his own blade in his hand with narrowed eyes.  How dare they... how dare they march on Palas like that!  "And like hell I'm going to give in easily," he murmured angrily, clenching the sword in hand.  It would be no match for gunpowder, but he wouldn't go without taking at least one of them down with him. 

Marching green and white stopped and formed a neat line before the manor, disciplined and taking their rifles from their shoulders, bayonets glistening in the dying sunlight. A quick snap of movement, and they took aim towards the front of the manor, a command being issued robustly by the commander behind the ranks. 

"We have your home surrounded. Orders have been issued by General Reichmann to take this home for the use of the Basram army. Your loyalty and cooperation would be appreciated," recited the commander from a scroll he'd already memorized, "Surrender and we will not harm you."

"Bullshit," muttered Gaddes, moving away from the window to go to his captain's side. There was a deathly silence for a moment, and Gaddes took that time to take hold of Allen's tensed hand, roughly pulling him down to his seated level to look Allen straight in the eye, "No matter what happens, Allen, don't you worry about me, okay?"

"You do the same," he answered quietly, nodding to him.  He glanced over at Riden and the others, standing, sword clasped in hand.  "If you can get out... then do so."

With that, the blonde murmured a soft prayer, pushing open the door.  Basram soldiers... in his Asturia.  It was too wrong to behold.  Too painful.

Riden and Kio looked at each other as they watched their commander, moving quickly along with Gaddes and grabbed some sort of extremity to pull him out of the line of fire. Somewhere there was a "Boss, no!" and then "What the hell are you doing?!", ending with a "Get down!". 

Shots rang crisp and clear in the chilled evening air, battering into the plaster of the old Asturian manor. Riden just barely managed to grab Allen's arm and pull him down to the floor, with Gaddes swirling in front of him to push him, and at the same time, Kio managed to shut the heavy oak door. The loud din of the gunfire left their ears ringing in the sudden silence, barely detecting the heavy clicking of several rifles being reloaded.

The soldier's were left panting, looking down at their commander. "I'm not worrying about you. You're just crazy," concluded Gaddes, out of breath mostly from the adrenalin of being shot at and too shaken to notice that his left leg was bleeding heavily from his thigh.

Allen growled, frustrated.  "Let me go, damn it!  This is my country, I can't just let them take it over like this!"  he had to do something.  He was still a knight, he still had to defend these people, this place.  He almost sobbed.  He'd been so ready to die for his country, so ready to take on these soldiers, if even by himself.  He struggled against the arms that held him, feeling but uncaring of the wound in his side that stained the once white cloth with a growing mess of crimson.

"You can't, boss! You can't die!" cried Riden as Kio brought their commander to a safer place behind the parlor wall, "Hans and Angelina were out there . . ." Gaddes looked at Riden, shocked to remember that he had sent them out to fetch fire wood, when the coup began so suddenly.

Riden's arm was still splinted and in a sling, but using his right hand, he tried as best he could to keep Allen prone. Kio gave some orders to Pyle to find an escape route with Chris and Ethan. Was the house completely surrounded? Maybe there was a chance to get out before . . .

Ethan started, looking at Allen and Gaddes.  He and Chris had been called down as well.  "Chris," he said softly, motioning to the two officers, "look..."

Allen's frantic struggling wasn't helping the wound in his side, but he had to get out there.  He had to find his daughter, he had to defend the Queen.  "It's my duty, damn it, let me go out there!"

"You two! Go with Pyle! Find a way out of here, now!" ordered Gaddes upon seeing the brothers come down the stairs. He wouldn't dare take his gaze from Allen's too long, trapped in his chair and helpless to watch Allen writhe in pain in anger. Both Kio and Riden were trying to steady their commander long enough for Kio to staunch the blood flow.

Gaddes had been running his hands over his legs and suddenly noticing his slickened his hand got with the movement. He looked down and groaned, more annoyed than in pain - he couldn't feel it anyway. He knew well enough that no matter if he could feel it or not, he would need to stop the blood before he died from blood loss.

"Fuck," he muttered, looking to Riden, "I need something to staunch this wound on my leg."

It took Kio actually grabbing Allen in his strong grip to steady him, wrenching the sword away from him and setting it aside with a soft apology.  He felt his heart pull as frustrated tears slipped over the knight's cheeks, but he wouldn't let him go.  They couldn't afford losing Allen, too.  The big man held him  close, stilling his movements for the most part as he put pressure against the wound, thankful that it was a clean shot.  He wouldn't have to dig out any shards of the ammunition.

Ethan grabbed Chris' arm, biting down on his bottom lip nervously and turned toward Pyle, nodding to him to lead them on.

Gaddes didn't know how much time passed, or if Pyle and the others actually made it out - when he heard guttural orders shouted from outside, the front door kicked in. In a blue of green and white, at least twenty men filed inside, rifles drawn and aimed. They romped up the stairs to search for any others that might be in the house, and had no trouble finding the four of them where they huddled in a corner of the front parlor.

Riden yelped when one of the soldiers roughly took him by his uninjured arm, just as he was trying press a dish towel to Allen's wound. Kio was next to be taken and bound. Gaddes had been trying to put pressure on his own wound with his bare hands, and was helpless to do anything when the lieutenant, leading this troop most likely, came in and roughly pressed his boot upon Allen's heaving chest.

"You will be prisoners of Basram," said the soldier in a thick Basramese accent, "Consider yourselves privileged."

Allen looked up at the soldier, more than ready to resist.  Had he been alone here, he would have... but he would not throw away the other's lives when they had just saved his.  Gritting his teeth as he relented quietly.  He hated admitting weakness, he hated surrendering.  But it was for the better.

His side hurt, that much he was sure of, and his pride as well.  A knight... surrendering?  What foolishness.

~

 Basram took Allen's crew back to the Reichmann's flame, noting his station and knighthood and having orders to capture the last remaining Caeli Knights. With little regard for their various injuries, Riden and Kio, along with Allen were shoved into a holding cell inside the massive Basram ship. Gaddes was more or less pushed inside, still desperately holding his hands over his leg wound, glad he couldn't feel it but suddenly scared that he might not be able to stop bleeding.

Angelina sniffed slightly, startled by the sounds of the iron barred door pulling back and shoving several men inside. But she'd caught that scent that was so very familiar to her, and though she was being cradled by Hans', she couldn't help but squirm in realization. 

"Father!" she cried out.

Allen growled, kicking the cell door hard.  "Marching over Palas... so easily!  Child's play, all of it."  It hurt to think of his lovely Palas in hands such as these here.  Heeding Kio's urgings, Allen did sit down, though he still fumed, wincing slightly as Kio used Allen's shirt as a bandage, tearing strips off.  when that was done, he used the remainder, pressing it against Gaddes' bleeding thigh.

"Be careful, Katzchen," Hans said softly, setting her on her feet.

Riden sat against the wall, nursing his splinted arm and for the most part, occupied with his own thoughts and sorrows. Gaddes worked with Allen, having helped briefly with Allen's wound before averting his attention to his own. He could already feel himself starting to become fatigued, that familiar ringing enclosing his hearing, swelling his head and telling him he was losing blood and fast.

Angelina was about to go to where she'd heard her father's voice, but their frantic tones suggested that it would not be a good idea to disturb them - it was too frightening for her. Now that she was on the ground, she had barely taken two steps towards them before hurrying back to Hans' and hugging his leg. 

"Gah!" said Gaddes, annoyed and shaking his head to clear the fatigue, "Damn it, I'm getting tired."

"Don't you dare fall asleep," murmured Allen, pressing his hands against the wound, frowning.  He hadn't noticed Hans and Angelina yet, his anger and frustration and upset far too occupying at the moment.  And now, his worry.  If they couldn't stop the bleeding...

"We need some way to stop it, letting it simply stop isn't doing a damn thing."  The blonde sat back lightly, frowning still.  Today... it was just going all wrong.

A smarmy humming came from the locked cell door, and Gaddes looked up to see Lt. Commander Fritz eyeing them maliciously from the other side of the bars. He was leaning against them with an evil grin upon his face, amused as they tried to staunch the blood flow from a wound the man could not feel. It made him chuckle, a low, deep rumble that seemed to make everyone's spine tickle and freeze.

"Amazing how quickly the blood flows through one's body, no?" said Fritz in a thick accent, making Angelina clutch Hans' leg even tighter. She definitely did not like the sound of this man, or the tapping of the metal from the gun he held in his hand.

"Fritz," Hans spoke up after a moment of watching the Asturian pair.  He had served with this man before... they had a few drinks before, laughed and joked.  And now this... everything had changed.  "Fritz, help them.  We have never been so cruel before, why now?  Treat their injuries as we have before." The Basram soldier almost begged... but he still had some pride.  He knew they would leave the Asturian soldiers to suffer what injuries they had... they were, after all, aboard his father's ship.

"Oh," Fritz pouted sarcastically, giving Hans a very deep and mocking look, "I was told I could have some fun with you. Especially them. I suppose the cripple can't feel anything on those legs of his." He spoke in their mother tongue, the Asturians within the cell looking at each other and wondering as to what he might have been saying to Hans. Fritz, meanwhile, gave Hans a very dark smirk, pointing his pistol in Gaddes' direction.

"I suppose he won't be able to feel this then?" And he shot the pistol, aiming it well enough at Gaddes' right leg, watching sadistically as the blood splattered from the man's thigh. Gaddes was too slow to react, never having dealt with such weapons at such close range and unprepared for the shot. He cried out, more from surprise than pain. 

Hans tensed, lifting himself halfway from the floor where he'd been settled, a growl on his lips.  His voice was low, shaking with his anger, the already guttural language made even more so by his tone.  "Wenn ich aussteige, werde ich gründlich genießen schlachtend Sie wie das Tier, das Sie sind, nur für das."

Allen, who had jerked his head away at the spray of blood from Gaddes' second wound, stared at Hans and his anger.  This boy... he had been so soft-spoken all the time he'd known him.  So quiet and relenting.  But that voice was not gentle.  And while he did not know what was being said, he could tell it was not in Fritz's favor. The knight pushed those thoughts aside, cursing under his breath and pressing his hands to the new wound frantically.

Fritz only grinned a very crooked grin that held all the malice and contempt he had for the country they were now successfully overthrowing. He watched Hans with near crazed eyes, bringing up his second pistol haphazardly and pulling the trigger. The shot rang out loudly and echoed in the metallic walls of the ship's holding cell. The iron bullet embedded and exploded in Hans' left arm.

Hans had expected retribution for his snarled words.  And no less at the weapons that he had once used.  But he had never felt the pain of the hot bullet and they weren't as far away as he would have liked.

The pressure, the suddenness of the attack made him stumble back slightly, crying out and grasping his arm tightly, blood welling up around his pale fingers.  He made a note to escape this cell, to kill that man, to make him pay.  He narrowed his eyes against the tears of pain that rose lightly in them, curling his lips back in a snarl.

Allen flinched at the loud cry from Hans... and the stinging sound of the shot from the pistol.  Well.. .at least they knew Hans really was on their side.

Fritz left them, having used his two shots from his pistols, letting a maniacal laughter tear from his throat as he walked away from their cell. Riden was helpless to do anything, having only one usable arm, but he urged Kio to help Hans. Gaddes was hardly paying attention, his upper body slowly falling forward as his head swelled into a darkness he was having trouble fighting back.

With a final groan, fatigue overtook the sergeant, his hands fumbling and numb. He fell against Allen, out of his chair and onto the floor. Riden panicked then, crawling awkwardly on one hand and his knees, frantically moving to where Gaddes had fallen unconscious and trying to help in any way he could to keep the man prone and steady.

All this was going on around Angelina, who now had no one beside her to comfort her and reassure her. No one to tell her what the frightening loud 'Bang' was that had echoed within the cell twice, and no one to tell her if her father was alive or dead. So many cries of pain, moaning and groaning from the agony that overwhelmed them - it left her in a heap upon the floor, huddled against the cold metal of the cell wall.

"Father!" she cried out again, sobbing uncontrollably and reaching out blindly with the sounds of all the activity going around her.

Hans pushed Kio away, refusing his assistance for now, taking Angelina up with one arm and pulling her close, urging her to draw near him.  But he said nothing, focusing on trying to hold back the pain that gnawed at him, as well as quell the bitter anger that rose like bile in his throat.

Allen moved to catch Gaddes as he slipped forward, panicking.  He, with Kio and Riden's help, managed to get him lying flat on his back.  But from there... they couldn't do much more than try and stop the bleeding as they had been doing before.  The smell of blood was thick, mingling with the scent of gunpowder.  All the movement didn't help keeping Allen's wound from stopping its bleeding and as he shifted about, doing his best to push back the pain, the clots that had formed shattered and the cloth tied about his side to cover the wound was quickly stained with his blood.

They were all left to wait, left for their blood to dry alone and clot and stink up the cell with its immense copper wreak. Angelina had sniffled, and trembled furiously within Hans' grasp, worrying over him and so utterly confused. Everyone seemed to be in so much pain. Even her Hans was moaning occasionally, his muscles beneath her tiny arms tensing often. 

Gaddes had not awakened, but the wounds on his legs eventually stopped. By the time the stillness of the night had settled upon them, various pools of their own blood had stained the cell floor and dried with its stench left to linger. Kio was shirtless, as was Allen, and now Hans - the fabric from their own clothes used as last minute tourniquets. 

Angelina's head really began to hurt, as she'd been crying from the fright her little heart could barely withstand. "Hans, Hans," she cried softly, finally able to hear after so much noise, after the shouting the ringing of bullets shot from pistols, "Hans, what happened?"

Hans had said nothing besides the occasional pained groan or grunt, his head tipped back against the cool wall, cheek resting against the surface.  He stared dully off, his jaw clenched so tightly that it would ache later.  He didn't answer her, still with one arm loosely about her, the other stinging horribly, burning with pain.

Finally having gotten the bleeding to slow and stop, Allen sighed, sitting back, glancing over at his daughter.  "Angelina... I'm here.  Don't' worry, it'll be okay."  He sounded and felt weary both, leaning against the wall.  The cell reeked of blood and it stung his nose when he breathed.

She moved away from Hans' hold, sniffling and crying, her breaths coming infrequently and raspy - ragged. She was so terribly scared, so confused; the smell, the sounds of Hans moaning in pain. It was just too much for her to handle and she couldn't help but sob from the complete and utter frustration she felt in not knowing what was happening around her.

"Father, where are you?" She stumbled forward, her arms desperately searching around the air and aimlessly walking in the opposite direction of where Allen slumped against the wall.

Allen moved carefully over to her, biting back a groan at the sting of pain in his side.  He brushed his fingers against her cheek, glancing over at Hans as he did so.  "I'm right here, Princess."

The Basram soldier drew a leg to his chest, sighing softly, careful not to jar the wound in his arm.  He'd found a place to set it where it didn't throb as much and he didn't have much want to move it.

The moment his fingers touched her skin, she turned and clung to him as if it would be the very last time she would ever get to do so. The bows in her hair became loose and drooped heavily on her ringlets, the silver curls having grown wild and disarrayed with so much movement and flurry about her. She cried, for there was very little else for her to do in such a situation.

Gaddes, meanwhile, was coming in and out of consciousness, barely managing a groan before he would slip into slumber again. The cell door unlocked finally, and two soldiers, ensigns, came stalking inside. Once again, the noise startled Angelina, and everyone else in the room for that matter. Not a word was said as the soldiers took both of Gaddes' arms and began to drag him out, leaving his wheelchair vacant within the cell.

Allen held her closely, rubbing her back with a gentle hand.  He couldn't do much more than that, careful to keep her away from his injured side.  "It'll be okay, Princess, it'll be okay."

The blonde started a bit, looking over.  He struggled to stand, but Kio's heavy hand kept him in place, Riden's timid glance made him quiet himself.  What could he do against these people anyhow?  Without his sword, without his country's freedom... 

Hans had glanced over, pondering the thought of arguing... but he didn't bother.  He wasn't Basram anymore.  For all they knew, he was simply a traitor.  

More soldiers came inside then, after Gaddes was dragged behind the first two, and roughly the took Riden by his arms, setting him to his feet before he had a chance to protest and practically pulling him, ignoring his whimpers as his splinted arm was tugged and strained in their grasps. Other soldiers came in, taking Kio in the same manner, and practically tearing Angelina from Allen's hold.

Allen panicked when they took his daughter from him, but the steady glance from Hans made him stop.  His heart fluttered in fear... what would they do to her?  He almost said something to the younger blonde, but bit it back at how silently, suddenly morose he was.  They had taken the girl from him... and she was, in essence, the only one that had actually accepted him.  She cared more for him than his own family had...

In sequence, the remaining soldiers took Allen and Hans, one soldier grabbing Hans' injured arm and uncaring for the amounts of blood that seeped it. Another jarred Allen roughly up onto his feet and pushed him forward to follow after an ensign that carried Angelina, who was screaming and crying hysterically for her father and Hans. They were marched down metallic halls that were not unlike Zaibach's air hospitals. Countless jail cells resided in this level, and they were taken up a lift, eventually being shoved through a set of double doors.

The room was the bridge, the ceiling at least fifteen feet high, and the entire left side of the room was a window. Mechanical and electrical devices clicked and chirped and sprang to life while soldiers went about hitting buttons and pulling leavers. 

General Reichmann stood calmly in the middle of it all, seated stoically at his command console.

Allen kept an eye on his daughter, calling out to her to calm down.  All the while, though, he kept his eyes on the technology here, the foreign advances they'd made.  It was... amazing, really.  And frightening.

Hans didn't seem to fit in much here, with his drawn back hair, his clean-shaven appearance.  He really was an attractive young man.  But the bitter, lonely look in his eyes made him seem much older than he really was.  Several times, the knight saw the other clench his jaw to keep from crying out, especially when he caught sight of his father. Allen narrowed his eyes slightly at the general, though he wisely said nothing.  The wound at his side was troubling enough.

General Reichmann hardly moved, his expression like stone behind a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. He wore a refined, crisp uniform of green and white, long coat and shining black boots. His frame was rigid as he stared out across the bridge of his ship and toward the forest and field landscape outside, demonstrating his discipline. Gloved hands, pristine and white, were clasped behind his back, his chin lifting slightly as the ensign announced the arrival of the prisoners, of the Knight Caeli, his soldiers, and the general's disowned son.

Riden was forced down on his knees, Kio next to him, pistols being pressed hard against the back of their heads. With his head bowed, Riden nursed his slinged arm with the other, holding back a pathetic whimper and trying to peak as he heard the clipped sounds of the General's boots approach them all. Kio was holding back a growl of frustration.

Meanwhile, Angelina had been desperately trying to relieve herself of the soldier that held her, clutched her like a rag doll and nearly choked her with his strength. They couldn't afford to have a hysterical little girl running around, and the ensign tried to impress upon her his dislike for her by showing his strength in his hold. She could barely breathe, and began to gasp and strain as she fruitlessly pushed against the ensigns chest.

Hans would have said something, but a cold shiver crawled through him.  His father... he'd never been enough for him.  He'd never been strong enough, fast enough... and now, he was nothing to him.  Nothing but a failure.  His words would do nothing here.  He would be unable to get the soldier to leave the girl be, to loosen his hold on her.  But, as he had been for awhile, he was silent, sorrowed.  He hadn't wanted to return here after his father had forsaken him.  Blood trailed down his pale arm, pain jolting through it at every movement, but he did not dare cry out.

Allen stared over at Angelina, a frown tugging on his lips.  Gods... he made to call out to his daughter, but the soldier behind him jabbed the rifle barrel into his side, making the knight wince.

General Reichmann stood, tall and proud, lifting his chin with whiskers like straw and setting his hand on the hilt of his sword - purely a symbol of status and decorative. The stoicism did not leave his face as he scrutinized the prisoners that were held at gun point before him. With a meaningful look towards the ensign with Angelina, however, the girl was quickly released and set down upon the ground - though not without the ensign holding her firmly by her shoulders and making her squirm.

"Hans!" she called out frightfully, not even able to lift her hand to wipe away the rivers that streaked her reddened cheeks. "Hans, where are you?"

The General looked at the girl curiously at the mention of his son's name, almost having a mind to sneer in satisfaction. He looked to his son, noticed the heavy wound he'd sustained on his arm by one of their own weapons. He made no mention of it, and simply kept his gaze locked upon the resigned expression of Hans.

"The traitor. He becomes a prisoner again, only this time by the country that bore him." said the General coldly, "You are truly useless."

Hans bit back physical and emotional pain.  His father would want to see it... he would want to see how deep those words cut him.  He really was useless, wasn't he?  Allen had trusted him to take care of Angelina, and he'd managed to get her grabbed.  He'd been unable to protect any of them...

The youngest there, with the exception of Angelina, he noted silently.  And already labeled outcast, already labeled a failure.  

"How is Heidi," he dared to ask, lifting his gaze to the cold, hard one of his father.

"She is not of your concern." snapped the General, his hand twitching at his side with the temptation to backhand him for speaking. Finally, the stoicism fell away, to reveal a prominent sneer as he gave the prisoners a good hard look. "What a pathetic rabble of soldiers," he commented, his lip curling. He looked toward Allen, stepping to him and grabbing the knight's lapel.

"You're name, knight." he demanded quietly.

Hans clenched his jaw tightly... he could feel the others' eyes upon him, the sympathetic looks from the Asturians, the cold, but amused glanced from the Basram soldiers.  He'd fully expected to get hit for speaking... rather surprised and, honestly, frightened when it didn't happen.

Allen, once more quickly reminding himself that he needed to do what he could to keep them all out of as much danger as they could, responded quietly, cerulean eyes on the general.  He did not pull away, he did not whimper.  His voice was calm, untrembling, though he felt fear for his daughter and the others there.  "Allen Schezar."

Seemingly satisfied with the answer he received, he released Allen to crumple to the floor, keeping a smirk for himself as he turned away and muttered orders to a lieutenant under his command. The words were spoken in Basram, and were low and soft. After a moment, the lieutenant nodded firmly, handing the General his pistol before stalking over to the ensign that held Allen captive.

"You seem to have acquired an admirer, Hans," Reichmann said, fixing a glove and gazing at it absently before turning once more to face his son. He saw the lieutenant and ensign lift Allen up off the floor and start to take him away. With a curt nod, Riden and Kio were marched closely behind. "She will be - sad - I suppose . . . after you are executed. I see that she's blind. At least she will not have to see your corpse fall lifeless to the floor," he said, taking the pistol and calmly aiming it toward Hans, "You are dead to me anyway."

Hans lifted his head slightly to look at the man that had raised him.  Never good enough... he'd never, ever been good enough for him.  "Es tut mir leid, Katzchen," he said softly in apology.  He couldn't carry out that silly little promise.  But... it had meant a lot to him, really.  

"He's your son!" cried Allen as he was pulled away, a growl on his lips.  "How can you kill your son!?"

Hans ignored Allen, swallowing silently.  He promised himself that he wouldn't cry, that he wouldn't call out in pain.  Even if it was slow... he would do that much.

Something crossed over the General's stern features, even as he held the pistol solidly and aimed it to his own son's heart. The soft apology reached his ears, as did the Asturian knight's desperate outcry . . . and then he smiled. Reichmann's smiles were to be feared, and this was one of those times when it would twist the gut of a man with just a flash of his teeth. It was full of malice, and scorn.

"Quite right, Sir Schezar," mused the General evilly. "How can I kill . . . my own son . . .?" Body shifted, the trigger clicked and pulled, and the shot rang. The bullet missed its original target, and Hans' chest remained unscathed. But the ensign that held Angelina by her shoulders could only stare down in shock . . .

Angelina collapsed to the ground without even a cry of pain, deep burning crimson seeping into her dress.

Hans had expected a sharp pain.  But when the crack of the gun sounded and he felt nothing, his heart fluttered.  He wouldn't have missed, he knew that much.  His father could aim like a god.  

Allen's eyes widened considerably behind the clear glasses as he watched in silent shock as his daughter crumpled to the ground.  She was so small... her dress hadn't been red before, had it?  Blue... always a pretty blue...

"Oh... oh God," he sobbed, his voice a harsh whisper.

Hans slowly turned his head towards Angelina and froze.  "Nein... ach... nein..." it was like seeing his sister fall.  Like seeing her be shot... a distinct pain fluttered in his heart.  He didn't notice grabbing the sword from the soldier who had held her until it was grasped firmly in his hand and he turned, narrowing his eyes, brandishing his blade at his father.  "Ungeheuer..." he growled, anger surging within him.  "draw your sword.  I'll kill you now."

There was no way for the General to lose now, so he thought. They marched on Asturia's capital, captured the local people and rounded them up like cattle until they could successfully claim the land for Basram. King Lurman would be pleased with the General's coup and grant him royal favor for the rest of his life and his family. Now, an insubordinate son was hardly an obstacle, and with a motion of his hand, he stopped the soldiers that were ready to pull Hans' back from attacking the General.

Gladly, he drew his own sword - decorative but every bit as sharp as it should be. He delighted in watching the girl crumple to the ground - hearing the knight's pleas and discovering that she was most likely his daughter. But Reichmann delighted more in the expression he'd caused from his son. A pained look of utter grief and heart break before the fury set in.

"Come at me, then, traitor." seethed Reichmann quietly, holding up his blade rigidly with the same discipline as one of his riflemen would show.

Hans, who had not, as one might assume, been out of practice, wielded the blade as Allen had showed him before.  Thankfully, the weapon was lighter than what he was used to, as he could only manage it one-handed.  He didn't notice the knight crumpling to the ground in his grief, nor the horrified stares of Riden and Kio.  They didn't matter.  The soldiers at his back, enclosing them didn't matter.

He had to kill this man or die upon his blade defending the girl he'd cherished so closely.  A growl on his lips, the normally gentle features narrowed in his anger, he lashed out in a sweeping arc, the strength of his fury behind it.

Hardly any effort went into his block, the General batting away the blow like water on rock. With his fist arrogantly on his hip, he watched, amused as Hans reeled from his evasion. "Truly pathetic," sneered the General, "Fritz! Make sure the troops are ready to move out. We take Palas when I'm finished here. Should not be much longer."

Fritz, who stood as second in command to Reichmann at the control console, shouted a quick acknowledgment, repeating the orders to the men of the bridge. Suddenly there was activity buzzing around them like a busy hive, every soldier running to stations, shouting orders, readying guns, pulling levers and pressing buttons. The sound droned and rang along the metallic walls, bells ringing - loud bells ringing all about the ship. 

Soon.

Reichmann stood, his sword poised and watching his traitorous, weak son, watching as the knight behind him sobbed, as the soldiers joined their captain in their tears and grief. "Truly pathetic," he said again.

Attack after attack he sent, putting in his own fair share of parries and blocks whenever the general decided to attack back.  He would not stop until he was dead... or better yet, until his father--nae, not his father anymore--until the general lay dead at his own feet.  A few soldiers, when they were ready enough, watched the ordeal calmly.  He had always been in their eyes as his father had described him.  Useless.

But those that had served beside him--with the exception of Fritz and a few others--had known him for who he was.  He might not have met his father's ever-rising standards, but he had his own strength.

Reichmann barely pushed his arrogance away long enough to note the finesse that Hans' had gained in his swordplay, sword moving easily through the air and one handed. Blood matted and riddled the boy's  left arm and rendered is useless, but it seemed that he was able to ignore the pain well enough throughout his fury of blows toward the General.

The General batted away the blade each time, though with more rigid, solid strikes, straight and unattractive - but effective. At one point, he stopped long enough to gloat, seeing that Hans was growing weary after failing to scathe Reichmann at all. His cold gray eyes glared and narrowed, his blade moving and striking at Hans' side, nicking him - much in the same way he had done in his youth, punishment for not paying attention to your opponent.

"You'll have to try harder," snapped Reichmann, "But it does not matter, mm? You will always fail. And now you will die." With a near sigh of boredom, he lifted his sword, ready to land the killing blow upon his own son.

Hans crouched down low, brandishing the blade sharply, then lunging forward in a quick movement.  Uniform crushed beneath the urgent press of the blade and the young man pressed his shoulder against the hilt for more pressure in a vicious strike.  The hand that grasped the hilt curled, jerking, twisting the blade in his father's chest, noting with morbid satisfaction the surprised look on his father's face.

"You are the failure," he said softly, yanking the blade out of the broad chest he had, for many years, longed to be clasped to in a proud hug.  Clothes lent to him by the Asturian soldiers that had housed him were stained in the general's blood.  Hans swept the other man's feet out from under him as the general stumbled back.  "I have found my purpose in this life... I don't have to look to you for acceptance anymore," he growled, his voice trembling in his anger.  

Pale face smattered with crimson, he turned toward Fritz, taking calm steps towards him.  "Come here.  Accept your fate."

They shared drinks, a meal, and a few laughs. Now Fritz looked completely mortified in seeing his general fall, by the hands of his own son, drenched in blood and now brandishing a sword the demanded more bloodshed. The second in command fumbled for a pistol, realizing that he'd used his shots, then grasped the hilt of his sword. He shouted orders, at the last minute as he tried to wrench the blade free of the hilt - he'd been dependant upon their new weapons for too long. 

He had no skill at the sword anymore than Allen or any other Asturians had skill at wielding a Basram rifle. His orders were for the troops to march, just as he unsheathed the blade and saw Hans was already upon him.

The blonde was quick on his feet, leaning close to the soldier, a small smile curling on his lips.  "Without your pistols... you're nothing.  Just his pawn."  He slipped behind Fritz, his back to the wall in case anyone else drew nearer, and nudged Fritz forward.  When he almost slipped in the blood on the floor, Hans couldn't help but begin to grin.  He shoved the man to his knees, grabbing the pistol from the hands of a shocked, frightened soldier, cocking it carefully, the sword dropped at his side.

He was sure he would be fine.  The sudden change in the normally calm, gentle man was frightening to those who were watching.  The sight of him smeared in blood, an amused smile on his lips, executing the two highest ranking officers in the room shocked them to silence.

A shot rang out sharply in the air.  Not a killing shot, no.  But he was thrilled at the sound of the bullet ripping through the leather uniform, through the tender flesh of the man's thigh.

Allen, still with tears in his eyes, stared.  Hans was doing this... for Angelina.  Not for his own sake... not for Allen's or anyone else's, but for Angelina.  That was his father...

Fritz felt the bullet worm into his thigh, burning and splattering his blood as he was helplessly upon the floor, writhing not far from the corpse of his late general. He wailed in agony, growled loudly. Pursing his lips and trying to gain his breath, he managed to motion to the prisoners and yell at the soldiers that held them captive. 

"Take them away!" he screamed, his eyes wild and pained, "Take them away now!"

Hans dropped the pistol, snatching up the general's sword in his hand, handle clasped firmly and he walked calmly closer towards the soldier, that slow smile spreading on his full lips again.  

The blade came down hard, the point of it piercing his gullet with ease, shattering as it crashed against the tile below it.  He watched as the blood bubbled up from the wound, as Fritz fought for air that would not come, and Hans jerked the sword out with another spray of crimson.

Allen was... horrified.  Utterly, completely horrified.  The small casing that had held together Hans' sanity was Angelina's presence... and whether or not she was dead, the fragile hold the Basram had cracked.

Despite the Lt. Commander's final orders, the soldiers stood around, watching motionlessly.


	43. Fall of the Fortress

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Fall of the Fortress**

The general was dead, and so was the second in command - but the troops were already marching in a coup de main. The allies had no warning, Palas had no defenses left, and Angelina still bled heavily upon the floor of the bridge. It was Riden who finally broke through his stupor, long enough to wrench himself free of the soldier who held him and go to the little girl's bloodied frame.

He would be the one to tell Allen that she still lived, and as they were taken back to their cell, he tried to reassure Allen in between choked sobs. One soldier had Allen's hands firmly behind his back, arms twisted and gripped strongly as he shoved the knight before him, uncaring if he stumbled. Finally he gave one last push into their cell. Another soldier had carried Angelina and lay her upon the floor, leaving quickly before he was rushed by the angry prisoners.

Hans was shoved into a separate cell, across the hall. Hans stumbled when he'd been shoved into the cell, slumping to the ground.  His hands were bound tightly, his arm burned... but oh the satisfaction. He'd laughed.  He'd laughed so hard on the way back, the eerie sound ringing down the halls.  The soldiers not on the bridge stared as Hans, still bloodied, was brought down the hall and shoved into the little cubicle.  A small chuckle lingered on his lips, staring at the wall.  He'd been victorious.  He'd been so very successful... finally, he had defeated his father.

Allen looked worriedly at his daughter, unable to hold her with his hands still bound, sliding over to her side.  His voice was soft, trembling... he could only wish she could hear him.  "Princess...?"

No answer came from the helpless, bleeding little girl. Her wound seemed to be at her side, and there wasn't much blood in a five year old. Most of it was probably seeped into her pretty blue dress, now stained a horrifying, deep crimson. Riden cried, his hands not bound as his left arm was still in a sling. He placed a hand on Allen's shoulder, before quickly reaching down to his captain's bound hands and trying to loosen the knots.

"She can't be dead," whispered Riden to his commander, his good hand fumbling as it worked, "She's can't be . . ."

"P-princess, please," he whispered, his voice trembling.  He couldn't lose her.  Not like this, not ever.  Fathers... weren't supposed to bury their children.  "Oh God, please..."  He would take all her pain unto himself if he could.  He would suffer her injury, he would die in her place if only she would live. She was the only thing left of Celena, and her life sign was fading fast. She did not move, hardly breathed, and very soon, she would lose too much blood to recover from the wound at her side. Spraining his fingers, Riden finally managed to get a good hold of a knot on Allen's bonds, yanking as best as he could one handed and let out a satisfied whimper as the bonds fell away.

Allen moved closer to her side, rolling her gently to him.  He was no physician... but he understood that they had to stop the bleeding as soon as they could.  He pressed his hands to the wound, frowning.  "Come on... please, for me... wake up..."

Riden couldn't do much with one working hand, but he could sacrifice something. His sling was made of cotton, and with the sudden realization, he quickly removed the knotted cloth from around his neck and splinted arm, handing it to Allen. 

"Stop the bleeding with this." he said, shoving the sling into Allen's hands, "Boss, we can't *do* anything else for her. We can't lose her like this, not here. Why did he have to shoot her, boss?"

Allen shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip, pressing the cloth to the wound.  "I... he understood," he answered softly, trembling.  "You saw it... when she was shot... Hans snapped.  It just... he fell apart.  He's been keeping everything bottled up... and she was the only one that made him feel the least bit welcome anywhere.  Without her... without her there, he would have been jailed, he would have been executed by now.  She saved him... I think... I think he realized that to break Hans... h-he'd have to destroy his resolve."

The cell door opened, tentatively at first, before it opened all the way and in stumbled a young looking man, in soiled white robes. He tripped with the shove that landed him inside the jail cell, the basin and bag he'd been carrying scattering upon the floor. The door shut again, and left the young man to scramble to his knees and pick up the fallen medical supplies.

"My name is Gunter," said the man hastily, picking up his bag and moving toward them awkwardly, "Uh - medicine?" Apparently he didn't speak very much Asturian.

Allen nodded sharply, motioning to the little girl.  He didn't know their language, but hopefully, the point would get across well enough.  The knight pursed his lips, drawing away the cloth after a moment.  Wait... were those soldiers frightened of them?  Was that why they were hesitant?  

Faintly, he could hear the soft chuckle from Hans' cell, catching the young man eyeing the soldiers calmly.

Quickly, Gunter set to work on the girl - so small and now so terribly pale. He saw the blood that stained her, practically drenched her, and took thick linen cloths from his bag to press them to the wound at her right side after ripping her little dress open enough to work. The wound was so large on her tiny little body - it was so tragic to see a girl so young bleeding to death from Basram's weapons.

He muttered a curse in Basramese, saying in his language, "She's lost too much blood. She will need a blood transfusion before her heart has nothing left to pump!"

Allen bit down on his bottom lip lightly, not understanding him.  He should have studied the language more, but damn it... it was too late now.  If Hans had been in his right mind, he would have been able to translate... but Allen wouldn't risk having him near, not right now.

Gunter was frustrated, and there's nothing worse than a healer who can't do a damn thing about healing someone - especially such a pretty and very young little girl. Her silver curls were matted together with her own lifeblood, and Gunter was frantic to save her. There would be nothing he could do here in this dank, blood ridden cell.  . . 

So much blood. . . everywhere, there was blood. Everyone was bleeding, dying - and soon, so would this little angel.

"Blood," struggled the Basram healer, looking deeply into Allen's eyes and forcing what little Asturian he knew, "Need - blood. Now!"

Allen blinked a little, pausing, then held out his arm, motioning to himself.  "I'm her father," he said, shaking his head.  Hopefully it would be good enough.  Hopefully... he just wanted to save her.  He didn't care what happened to him, just so long as he saved her.  She had to live...

"Father," repeated Gunter, bright vivid blue eyes wide and frantic. He nodded, trying for a smile, "Father, ja, father... good." And he called out to the guards, keeping his hands firmly upon the little girl's wound. The cell door opened tentatively again, and after brief explanation from Gunter in their language, the guard reluctantly nodded and whistled for another to help carry the little girl out.

~

It was a great risk they were taking, these Basram soldiers, to let the healer into their cell in the first place. But it was even greater that they took Angelina and her father from their cell to bring them to the medical facilities that were on board the Reichmann's Flame. Instead of the reclining chairs like on the Zaibach air hospital, they were simply put onto plane wrought iron frame beds.

Angelina's lips were turning pale, and Gunter worried over some more, young as he was. He couldn't help but feel the desperate need to save the girl. The beds were side by side, and he lay Angelina down gently upon it. Nurses in the medical facility were asking what was going on, but they were quickly given orders to shut up and start a blood transfusion between the pale little girl and her father.

Allen was silent, worriedly looking over at his daughter.  She didn't look good, not at all... but if he could do anything to help her, then he would.  He followed the men's orders, pursing his lips a little when they started the transfusion.  He was silent, lying his head back, staring at the ceiling.  If only... if only this would work.  He could only hope.

From the corner of the room, not very far from where the doctors in this small medical bay fussed over Angelina and Allen to make sure the needles were placed correctly, the machine pumping blood from Allen's arm and into his daughter, a groan was emitted from a dry throat. Gaddes had been taken here earlier, his wheelchair rescued from the cell after Gunter, who was the only fully certified healer on board the Reichmann's Flame at the moment, noticed the man did not wince from any pain in his legs.

Gaddes' wounds were easy enough to staunch, stitch and heal. His thighs were dressed in bandages that were stained with blood but at least not drenched with it. He lay in a white wrought iron bed, noticing the activity as his vision started coming into a focus. His shirt was stained red, dirty and soiled from sweat and dust. He saw his chair beside the bed, struggled to sit up, and haphazardly transferred into it. 

With the movement, he groaned again, his head swimming and he bent over. Tiredly, he managed to get his legs upon the foot plates of his chair and fix them straight before he wheeled over to Allen's bedside, somewhat slumped in his seat as he glided along.

"Allen . . ." he breathed tiredly, his trembling hand reaching and touching Allen's shoulder.

Allen had his yes closed, the transfer of blood making him tired.  But he didn't care... if it saved Angelina, it didn't matter.  But at the touch on his shoulder, the blonde flickered his eyes open, looking at Gaddes.  He paused, then smiled slowly.

"I think... we should leave Hans alone for awhile," he said softly, long hair falling about him softly. Tearfully, Gaddes bent down, having seen Angelina's pale face and not wanting to see such a painful sight anymore. So he nuzzled Allen's neck. She was - their daughter. Her lips growing so pale was just too much for Gaddes, even as he himself was dizzy from his blood loss and recent transfusion. They were all feeling miserable, were all bleeding and shot, wounded. A whimper came from the sergeant's constricted throat, which was unusual for the common rough tough soldier.

He was no longer a soldier, however, and had been ready to settle himself into the quiet role of uncle for their little girl. But now, even that didn't seem like it would happen. His hand found Allen's face as he nuzzled his nose into his lover's flesh. Meanwhile, a nurse was clumsily trying to stitch Allen's wounded side, cleaning the clot before jabbing the needle into the aggravated flesh of the bullet wound.

Allen winced slightly, hissing a little.  The wound was far from being numb.  The knight closed his eyes again and would have hugged Gaddes close had he not been so tired.  "She'll be okay," he managed softly, "I know she will... she's strong."

The blonde bit down on his bottom lip at the feeling of the woman stitching the wound together.  It was... far from being comfortable.

Gaddes could only try to comfort Allen with what little energy he had left, the whirring of the machine that pumped blood into pale little Angelina droning in his ears. He screwed his eyes shut - his little girl . . . *their* daughter was about to die, it seemed. Too much blood. Basram weapons shed more blood than swords and knives, and it was just so awful, so horrible to witness.

"Gods," cried Gaddes softly, burying his face further into Allen's hair, his hand stroking the golden hair beneath his fingertips, "I love her too much to let her die. . . she's too young . . too young . . ."

"She won't die," he whispered.  He wouldn't believe it.  "Hans won't let her," he said, just the smallest smile curling onto his lips.  He trusted the young man more now, far more, after realizing how close he was to Angelina... it was beautiful, really.  Perfect.  She would have someone to take care of her even after Allen and Gaddes were gone.

Gaddes nodded, his cheek rubbing against the side of Allen's head and his arm holding him by the shoulder in a sort of half embrace. The nurse finished her work with the needle and thread, placing a square of sterile gauze upon the wound and sealing it around the edges with self-adhesive tape. There had been no bullet to fish out, as it had passed through the side of Allen's flesh, very nearly grazing the skin but punctured it instead.

She checked the machine, and the tubes that had the dark red blood flowing through them into Angelina. Gunter came back in and asked something in Basramese, where the nurse replied affirmatively in the same language. The healer seemed pleased with her answer, dismissed her and waited a few more moments before he stopped the machine and tended to his new patients.

Leaning down the Allen, he removed the needle that had been taped to the knight's arm and said in a soft voice, "Angel . . . alive."

Allen smiled slightly, looking at the healer tiredly, nodding.  Angel... she most certainly was an angel.  She was as beautiful, as perfect as one, so kind, so accepting.  She didn't judge, she didn't need to.  She simply... knew.  And was even more beautiful because of it.  "Thank you," he said, though he wasn't sure he could understand it or not.  But his tone was thinking, albeit weary.

~

 After Gunter had seen to his patients, having to struggle with his little knowledge of Asturian to communicate to them what their wounds had done to them and that he would do everything he could to help them and care for them, he came back to the holding cells of the Reichmann's flame. He was a friend of Hans, since before the young man had joined the army, before Gunter had decided to leave his home to become a healer. The guards he'd managed to convince of the dire need to care for these people's various wounds, and thus the guards became sympathetic.

Gunter was just so glad for that, that he could save his friend from the tyranny and evil of his late father, to save these poor people from suffering too much pain. The ones down below in the pens were more or less left alone by the soldiers. Due to Hans' close ties with the Knight Caeli and his soldiers and family, Reichmann just seemed to hold a grudge, and took out his anger on them.

He came to Hans' cell, timidly asking the guard to open the door so that he could go in and look over Hans' injuries. "Hans," said Gunter, coming to the dazed and hysterical man's side, the door to the cell closing quietly, "My friend . . ."

Hans had been given no water to wash the blood from his clothes and skin, no one had done anything but toss him inside, too frightened of his earlier display to do much of anything but stay away.  He had slaughtered his father and Fritz both... and gods had it felt so good to do.

His arm, useless at his side, had been torn by the gunshot, the muscles ripped.  It hurt... but he was so numb right now.

For a long moment, no recognition lingered in his eyes before he leaned forward slightly, peering at the healer.  "You don't have to worry about father anymore," he said softly, as if someone else might hear.  "I've taken care of him, you know..."

A slow grin curled on his lips, a flash of white against crimson stained flesh.

Gunter tried to steel himself, taking a deep breath and pursing his lips. He was a horrible sight, bloodied, the flesh and muscles of his arm showing through grotesquely from the ripped sleeve of his crimson stained shirt. The healer's jaw worked, knowing that he would have to remove the arm - it was totally mangled and useless beyond any kind of repair. Gunter was surprised that even Hans, with his current adrenaline didn't feel such pain.

"Can you stand, my friend?" asked the healer softly, touching the soldier's good arm in a gesture of sympathy.

The working hand moved, clasping the healer's arm tightly, drawing him nearer as he stood with his aid.  "He shot her... I promised her that I would protect her and he shot her.  So... so I had to kill him.  And Fritz... do you see this?"  He touched the crimson on his clothing, leaning in closely to whisper to him.  "It's theirs.  Their blood.  All theirs..."  Hans laughed, bracing himself against the wall.

Gunter swallowed nervously. He'd never seen such a delirium before, such hysteria, and especially not in his compassionate friend. So long had they both been repressed by Hans' father, the general. The news of the man's death was hardly mournful to Gunter, and it didn't surprise the healer that the general was murdered by his own son. Now was not to think of such things, however. Though Hans' might not have felt the pain in his useless and shredded arm, he would soon if something wasn't done - or worse.

With a beckoning call to the guard, the door to the cell opened again, and Gunter led his friend down the hall and up a lift to the medical bay. The whole time, the ex-soldier needed to lean on him, and still he laughed and mused and chuckled within his dementia. As quick as he could, he administered a syringe to Hans' wounded arm after setting him down near the wall on the floor. They hadn't quite made it to a bed. The syringe was filled with a potent local anesthetic.

"There. Hans, you must listen to me," said Gunter, crouching down to where Hans sat, "I need to tell you what I must do to help you. . ."

"What more is there to do?" he asked, smiling.  "Father is dead... Heidi is safe, that's all, my part is over, ja?"  The smile grew a little.  "What help then, my friend?  Or... are you my friend?  Who knows now.  I am Asturian now, you know."  He nodded sagely, looking at him.  "So we are enemies."

"My loyalty lies with those who are good in their hearts. I only served for your father with the chance that he might find you - so that I might save you," said Gunter compassionately. The blood around Hans' arm had long since dried and was beginning crackle into a scab around mangled flesh. The healer tried not to flinch, but he needed to say his prognosis. Nurses worked around them, with muttered orders from Gunter to prepare knives and a saw.

"Hans," strained Gunter, again lifting Hans to his feet and leading him to a table, "Please, lay here. We - we need to remove your arm, my friend. I'm sorry."

"My arm?  Ach, what do I need that for?"  He laughed, an eerily hollow sound, getting led to the bed with the other's aid.  "Take it.  I don't need it, not now.  I'm sure you can find some better use for it."

Gunter had half a mind to argue, about to say something to his delirious friend. In the end he shook his head to himself, taking a breath and nodding to the nurses. Gently, they eased Hans back onto the table. Gunter did not want to be the one to do such a gruesome act. It would handicap his friend. But it came to no surprise... their weapons killed effectively enough, maimed even better, it seemed.

The localized anesthetic seemed to work, and Gunter tied a mask over his nose and mouth, looking nervously at the nurses who awaited his orders, before setting to his work on his poor friend.

 ~

 Gun shots. Cannon fire. It was deep, rumbling, some of it shrill, but all of it muffled through the walls of the Reichmann's flame. Battles waged on through the night, the Basram fortress seemingly untouchable - not one of the allies seemed able to jar it's course as it hovered in a precarious position before the city of Palas. The sounds were not loud enough to wake a sleeping man, but Gaddes awoke nonetheless.

He had fallen asleep, his lower half still sitting in his chair while the rest of him was bent down beside Allen, leaning his head upon the pillow. They were prisoners, he realized, paling. No way to escape such fortress, not injured as they were. He looked up over to Angelina, and was thankful that she didn't look as pale as she had before. There was some color back in her cheeks and lips.

"Allen," he whispered, thinking it must have been morning already, as Basram had attacked near evening of the night before, "Allen, are you awake?"

"Hn...," he man stirred slightly, flickering his eyes open.  After the transfusion, after he'd eaten a little something, he'd fallen asleep quickly, easily.  He woke at the other's urging, turning his gaze to Gaddes.

It took a moment for him to recognize the sounds of cannon fire outside.

And another moment to recognize the slumbering figure in the bed on the other side of Gaddes.  The blankets were drawn up over the still form of Hans, effectively hiding the severed limb from view.  Or what was left.  It was something to thank the Basram's friend for, really.  The young man was silent, slumbering, only the soft movement of his chest in breathing the sign he was even living.  The blood had been cleaned from his flesh finally, a pair of trousers lent to him from another soldier.  He would wake later to a pain that would not wane, though who was to tell if he'd be mentally conscious, stable enough to realize it.

Gaddes sat up, feeling a protesting creak in his back and groaning painfully. Carefully stretching, he reached behind him to rub at the tender muscles. A quick look around told Gaddes that there was no one here, no nurses, no doctors - not even the young Healer by the name of Gunter. He looked behind him, moving his chair backwards a little so that he can see Hans'. Poor kid, thought Gaddes sympathetically, before looking back to Allen.

"Allen," he said again, "What should we do? I have no idea what to do now. Angelina's alive, barely. We're barely alive. Hans . . . gods, Allen - everyone's fucking dying!"

"Hans... is alright, isn't he?"  Allen winced a little as he sat up, running a hand through his hair.  He peered over the other's shoulder at the sleeping form, standing.  He moved to the boy's side, looking at him. But where there should have been curves, bumps in the sheets... there were none.  The knight frowned a little, glancing at Gaddes, then hesitantly, slowly began to draw back the sheet.

Where there should have been an arm, there was nothing, the stump of what had not been sawed off was bandaged, covered.  Allen suddenly felt ill.  This boy had been so young... and already to fall beneath such horrors.  Not even twenty and already to lose a limb.  The knight looked at Gaddes, horrified.  To think that it had been that bad... he'd never noticed.

Gaddes wheeled over to Angelina's side, fussing over quietly without so much as a look in Hans' direction. His heart, his worry, lay with their daughter, who's life hung in the balance so delicately that Gaddes couldn't help but fear for losing her still. Even with her father's own blood flowing through her veins. He couldn't bear to see his angel die. 

"I wouldn't worry so much over Hans," said Gaddes in a clipped tone, petting Angelina's blood matted curls gently, "when you have a daughter who needs you."

"You didn't see it Gaddes," he said softly, looking sadly at Hans.  "He... the general is dead.  He shot Angelina... and Hans... Hans is the one that killed him for it.  It was a complete change in him.  He saw her there, after she'd been shot, and... I've never seen him so angry.  His father... and then the man that shot you both.  He just... he cracked, Gaddes.  It was like she was the only thing keeping him steady through all this."  He looked at Hans for a moment longer, then pulled the sheets up close to him again, turning to walk to his daughter's bedside.

The little girl's wound was near identical to Allen's, Gaddes noticed, and was stitched neatly with thick black thread. Her pretty blue dress was ruined, ripped and torn where the bullet had entered, stained heavily in crimson. Just then, the entire fortress lurched, causing Gaddes' chair to collide with Angelina's bed, his knees hitting the side of the bed frame. Heavy gun shots and cannon fire could be heard, local - coming from the Reichmann's Flame, Gaddes realized. 

The attack upon the fortress caused the floor to tilt slightly, Gaddes needing to brace himself in his own chair so that he wouldn't fall out of it. "They're attacking. Allen, we've got to get out of here."

Allen blinked a bit, frowning.  "And go where?  Do you know the way out?  Hans isn't awake to lead us and who knows if he would be able to tell us anyway.  We don't know how to get out of here.  And what if we ran into fighting on the way there?  We're injured and unarmed and who's to say that they won't fire first before making sure we're not enemies?"

The fortress lurched and tilted more, slowly sinking to the ground. The rumble and quaking of the massive ship told them there was heavy fire upon them. Suddenly, the ship crashed to the ground, creating a massive jump and shake of the very ship. Angelina was nearly knocked out of bed, but Gaddes caught her in time, though he was barely able to stay in his own chair as the everything around them seemed to quake furiously.

"I don't know! I'm out of ideas!" argued the sergeant, holding on to the little girl carefully, "You tell me what we're supposed to do."

Allen frowned, turning his head towards the entrance.  He pursed his lips, then nodded to Gaddes.  "Come on..."  He snatched up Hans in his arms, bracing his weight with his own as best he could.  He managed to wiggle the door open slipping outside and into the hallway.  "We have to get to Riden and Kio," he said softly, standing where he was a few moment and somehow managing not to lose his footing, then turned, heading off in what he hoped was the right direction.

Gaddes pursed his lips, taking Angelina into his arms and somehow securing her unconscious form onto his lap. The angle of the floor didn't help matters at all, and awkwardly, he managed to roll down the incline towards the hall where Allen had disappeared. He had to bend over Angelina to keep her from falling forward, her back leaning against his chest. 

Gods, how could he do this without killing them both, thought Gaddes, barely having enough strength to push himself around, much less up another incline with his niece in his lap. He could have cried from the frustration he felt, wanting to save their lives, or at the very least his sweet angel's life - and being unable to do so, unable to walk on his own two feet just made things harder.

"Allen!" He called, gripped the wall and trying desperately to keep at an angle where they wouldn't roll backwards and out of control.

Allen turned his head towards the other, frowning slightly.  "We wont' get very far this way," he said softly, padding back over to him.  "Here... you take him," he said, motioning for the sergeant to move Angelina out of the way.  "I'll take her and push you from behind."  Hopefully that way they could get somewhere.  Hopefully that way they might be able to save themselves.

The weight of the Basram soldier was barely noticeable on Gaddes, as they had awkwardly yet successfully exchanged their charge. Angelina was so small that she was able to be cradled with one arm, unconscious Hans leaning back against Gaddes' chest and situated precariously on his lap while Allen pushed Gaddes' chair. It was an uphill struggle, slow and straining. The Reichmann's Flame kept lurching every so often, shifting Hans and making the man nearly fall before Gaddes caught him. It was frustrating, and Gaddes would bitterly curse under his breath, thinking how much easier it would be if he could only walk.

The electricity began to groan and wane, making the lights in the metallic hallways of the fortress flicker. Another lurch, and steam ruptured into the corridor. The lights went out, for a moment, Gaddes nearly panicked. Then everything, he, Allen, the steam, was bathed in a dark red light. Scuffles could be heard, boot steps, a struggle – but he couldn't see through the steam. They were nearly there, that much he knew.

The sound was followed by a body falling to the cold floor with a grunt, then the shrill rattling of keys. Through the din of the steam, the gunfire outside, and the calls of Kio and Riden from the jail cell, Chris' voice spoke.

"Somebody call for a rescue?" he asked cheekily.

"Hurry up," whispered Ethan, pursing his lips a bit, "I can't see much of anything."  

Allen paused, frowning a little.  "Ethan," he called out in inquiry, cocking his head to the side.  "Chris?"  Hans, meanwhile, stirred slightly, but did not wake, groaning quietly.  He'd be aching when he awoke, that much was for sure.    And he'd be horrified if he was stable enough to realize that he had... only one arm left.  

Chris' hands trembled and fumbled with the keys, shoving and scraping against the cell lock he couldn't seem to find. This was, after all, his very first rescue. "I'm trying," he argued to his brother, hearing Allen's voice above the hiss of steam. He stopped, looking around for a second before shoving the keys to his brother, "You work on this." He stalked off into the steam, calling out for Allen and eventually finding him not too far from the jail cells.

"Oh, Jesus! Allen! Gaddes. Are you guys okay . . . I . . .," But he stopped, frozen with dread and feeling his heart skip as he saw Angelina. It was too loud, too hectic for her to be asleep, but she couldn't be . . . could she? "Angelina! No, oh, god," He went to Allen to take the little girl from his hold, unable to see the blood that stained her dress as it was drowned by the red light of the hall.

Ethan blinked, grabbing the keys and working at the lock.  His own hands were trembling.  He bit down on his bottom lip lightly, peering at the lock, finally getting it to swing open.  He sighed, relieved, turning his head towards where his brother went.

 Allen shook his head slightly but didn't relinquish his hold on his daughter.  He couldn't.  Not now.  "She's alright," he said softly, looking at him.  "Where's Pyle?  Did he come with both of you?"

"In the Crusade - docked near the bridge." explained Chris, looking down at Gaddes and Hans and barely registering the soldier's missing appendage before taking over the sergeant's wheelchair to push it towards the stairs. "We have to hurry! Daedalus is attacking this ship. It'll fall, and we'll go down with it if we don't get out soon. Ethan! Take care of Riden!" He bent down to Gaddes, "I'll say with you guys. Allen, you go on ahead."

Allen frowned slightly, not much liking the idea of splitting up, but knowing it would be best.  They would be moving in a larger group... and he and Angelina could get out easier with just the two of them.  The knight nodded, turning and padding off down the hall.

Ethan showed up with Riden and Kio, the young man helping Riden gently.  Kio took a look at Hans, swept him up in his big arms to make it easier for them, then looked at Gaddes.  "Where next, Sarge?"  Out, of course.  But which way, he wasn't exactly sure.  

"Ethan, you take the lead with Riden," said Gaddes tiredly, his arms failing him in his fatigue. He was still dazed from blood loss and transfusion - again, "Chris, you'll have to push me. I can't make it by myself." It was a rare thing indeed when Gaddes admitted his weakness, much like Allen. Even Chris looked a little worried for the sergeant, but they didn't have time to worry. Too much was happening and they needed to escape.

Chris looked to Kio, standing beside Ethan and Riden. Then he nodded, "You heard the Sarge. Ethan knows the way back. Follow him." Pulling resolution and resolve from somewhere deep within him, Chris began to push Gaddes up the inclining floor. The lifts still worked in backup power, thank the gods. Otherwise, they would have never been able to get Gaddes up six flights of stairs in time.

Ethan led them as quickly as he could while helping Riden.  It was all a blur really, his heart racing.  He winced at just about every creak, every sound of gunfire.  Gah... he wasn't made for war.  He didn't like it one bit.  

But they managed to make it, the Crusade right in view, even with Kio's slightly startled pause at finally noticing Hans' lack of a second arm.  He felt bad for him, really... he'd helped them out.  They'd laughed together, if only a little.  They'd gotten drunk together on a few accounts... and he was so young...

The catwalks from the hull of the Crusade were still extended, allowing for an easy and smooth passage aboard the ship. Chris was running with Gaddes in front of him, pushing the sergeant in his chair just behind the others. The moment they crossed safely into the hull of the Crusade, the destroyed docking station of Reichmann's Flame thankfully behind them, the catwalks were pulled back and the propellers hummed with activity.

Kio and Riden ran to their stations, to help start the leviship into an ascent. Chris panted heavily, keeping Gaddes at a safe distance from the edge of the hull while he bent over the man's shoulder. Weakly, Gaddes lifted his hand to pat Chris on the back.

"You did good, Chris," he said tiredly, "Thanks." At that, Chris managed a fatigued smile, smirking.

"No problem . . ."


	44. Zaibach Medicine

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Zaibach Medicine**

Allen was already on the Crusade, Angelina laid gently in his bed.  After making sure the others got on board safely, he looked at Gaddes.  "You... rest.  You need it.  I can handle it from here."  He turned to Chris and Ethan nodding to them.  "Good job, both of you... we wouldn't have made it out otherwise."  

Allen took Hans from Kio, then turned, walking back to the rooms.  For a second, he paused at the door that should have been Hans' room... but went past that to his own.  He carried him inside, lying him on the bed beside Angelina, sighing a little.  "The things I do for you, princess..."

~

 The Asturian frigate Crusade ascended high into the air, much higher than any other of the leviships that attacked Reichmann's Flame. There were many from Daedalus, some from Cesario, and very far down below were the form of guymelefs from Fanelia and Egzardia. The Crusade was like a watchful bird over the battlefield, nothing more than a third person view of something that didn't involve it as it flew freely among the Gaean clouds.

The Reichmann's Flame was already starting to fall when the crew escaped it, and now there were clouds of smoke rising and curling angrily in the afternoon sky. Basram's coup de main had backfired, it seemed, after the General himself was killed by his own son, who now lay beside the sweet angelic form that was Allen's daughter.

Gaddes, though fatigued and useless for the moment as an active member of Allen's crew, watched over his niece -- daughter -- and Hans. It was all he could do, to keep himself awake, leaning over her all too still form and brushing his fingers through her ragged silver hair. Occasionally he would dote over her, fuss over her, and kiss her forehead over and over with the hopes that she would wake with the kiss.

No response came from Angelina, however, and Gaddes, like any good father figure, could not help but fear for her.

Allen, after giving the men their orders, turned and headed back to the room where he'd lain Hans and Angelina.  He stood in the doorway, watching the two of them, pursing his lips slightly.  They made a pair, didn't they?  The unprejudiced princess taking in the heart of the exiled soldier who pledges himself to her aid, who fights for only her.

It's what parts they played, whether or not they knew it.  They were pulled into a destiny that they did not know.

And oh... so much pain for them when they were so young...

Gaddes looked up from where he sat, seeing Allen standing there. His eyes were reddened, but he wouldn't admit to crying, even though it was obvious that he had been. They were all so young, all of them were too young to be going through so much pain, anger, and hurt. Weakly, he managed to push himself toward Allen, with a few haphazard thrusts that let his arms fall with each push. 

Taking a breath, he took Allen's hand and tugged gently. 

Allen sighed softly, reaching up  to brush at his lover's cheeks gently, curling up lightly in his lap.  Even though he'd despised his own father so much for so long... he hadn't ever been able to picture himself killing him... or any child killing their parent in general.  But Hans... there had been no hesitation there.  Not for a single instant did he hold back, did he pause in his killing blow.

"It was all for her," he whispered softly, slipping his arms around Gaddes.  "All of this... he did it for her."

"Yes," agreed Gaddes hesitantly, holding Allen close to him, "I know he did. I know he sacrificed to save her, to defend her. But Allen, you have a daughter," he swallowed painfully, grimacing at the thought and straining in his voice, "A beautiful daughter who might not survive much longer. She hasn't . . . woken yet. She hasn't moved. Allen, we can't lose her. We - need to take her to Zaibach's hospitals."

"I agree... we can't do anything for her.  I don't know what's wrong with her--besides the obvious.  But I... I want to do anything I can for her.  We just need to get to them first."  Allen nodded slightly, closing his eyes a little.  He wanted to cry... but he'd cried so much already that he couldn't bring himself to do so anymore.

Gaddes held Allen a little tighter, a gentle and reassuring squeeze. From somewhere down the corridor of the tiny ship, someone banged against the wood panels of the wall, with muffled and indistinct yells. Gaddes looked up at the sound, then looked to Allen. "What was that?"

Allen blinked, lifting his head and glancing over.  The knight frowned a little, slipping out of Gaddes' lap.  "That... doesn't sound like anyone I know," he said softly, shaking his head slightly.  But he didn't have his sword with him...

With one last glance up towards Allen, Gaddes slowly began to glide down the hall toward the muffled shouts and banging. It was coming from one of the maintenance panels along the bottom edge of the wall - just large enough for a small man to fit inside. The muffled shouts became a little more distinct, and the sergeant looked up to Allen as he was able to at least make out the language.

"Bitte! Helfen Sie mir heraus! Ist jemand dort? Bitte!"

Allen slowly arched a brow, glancing at Gaddes.  Well... if the man was dangerous, if he meant to harm them, he likely wouldn't be making all the noise he was currently.  The voice sounded faintly familiar... but Allen couldn't place it, not really.

"Hm... do we leave him in there or help him?"  He grinned a little, glancing over at Gaddes.

Gaddes was about to give a cheeky reply when their stowaway banged on the wood panel again, interrupting them with more shouts. "Helfen Sie mir heraus! Es ist Gunter. Gunter der Heiler! Ich bin ein Freund von Hans!" Gaddes' lip curled, frustrated and not understand a word the Basram scum said. As far as he was concerned, all of them were intolerable savages - even Hans he could barely suffer the company off. 

With a swift turn of his chair, Gaddes turned away and headed back down towards the room with Angelina. "Leave him there to rot," he said over his shoulder, his tone bitter and full of scorn.

Allen cocked his head to the side a little.  Did he mention Hans?  The blonde pursed his lips slightly... then shrugged, turning to start to walk off towards the room.  Teach him right for sneaking onboard the Crusade.  Hah.

He slipped inside the room, glancing over at Angelina and Hans.  The ex-soldier was beginning to stir slightly, if only from the intense pain, the throbbing from what was left of his arm.

"Waking up then, is he?" said Gaddes shrewdly from his seat beside Angelina. He'd had his hand always touching her curls, always stroking them. He couldn't bear to leave her for too long anyway - he was just too worried over her. "I don't suppose he'll be too happy. I know the feeling well." He honestly could not find any sympathy in his heart for Hans, no matter how hard he tried for both Allen and Angelina - he just couldn't break the ice around his heart for this soldier.

He'd suffered at their weapons, and still went through the pains they caused in his battered body, his numb and disobedient limbs being the constant reminder.

Allen sighed softly, walking over to Hans' side.  If Angelina cared for him so much, then Allen could loosen his dislike slightly.  If only for his daughter's sake.

When Hans had pushed past the throbbing, deep pain enough to actually be awake, the first thing he noticed was the lighter weight on his left side.  He knew... it had to be... slow gaze traveled to his shoulder, staring, horrified at the injury.  He wasn't even twenty yet...

"Nein... ach Gott nein," he murmured to himself, his voice shaking.  Terror.  Pain, fright welled up within him.  "Wie... kann ich jetzt schütze Kätzchen? Ich... bin wirklich nutzlos, gleich wie Vater hat gesagt."  It was like he didn't even notice the others there, mumbling in a near whimper.  

Gaddes turned away, his face scowling and lips pursed. He couldn't bring himself to sympathize with him, he just - felt nothing for him. It was too soon to comfort the boy, too soon after his own injury, too soon to accept the Basram soldier as an ally, no matter how close he was to his precious Angelina.

"You'll get used to it," said Gaddes quietly, already feeling that Allen would probably not be too happy with his lack of sympathy.

Allen glanced at Gaddes, a faint frown lingering on his lips.  He rested a hand on Hans' uninjured shoulder.  "Gaddes...  if you're going to be like that, then just... go elsewhere for now."  Hans didn't need this.

He understood why Gaddes was bitter, why he felt no pity... but that didn't make it any easier to deal with.  Allen, in the end, was still the kind-hearted, accepting man he had been before.  It had simply taken a little nudging to get him back.  He hated that Gaddes was like this, that Gaddes couldn't walk.  He hated the Basram rifles for injuring him so, he hated that they had taken his ability to move normally.  But Hans... hadn't been the one to shoot him.  Hans had begun the path to redeem himself, though he wasn't doing it for that purpose.

Clenching his jaw, Gaddes closed his eyes, the makings of another scowl crossing his rugged features. Then he turned his chair, nodding. "I'll leave," he said, and slowly glided out of the room. 

 ~

 The bridge wasn't so full of activity as it once had been, during the last war, or even during the previous skirmishes at the fort. The Crusade gently hovered among the clouds, so very high above the ground, above the battle and death of war. Gaddes did not have a heart to look down, out of the windows to see Basram losing, or even to see the allies winning. 

 "Riden," he said, sitting calmly by the front windows and gazing as the mists of nimbus floated by, "Have you spotted a Zaibach medical station yet?"

The crew had the grace not to ask Gaddes why he'd finally left the girl's side, why he didn't seem to care about the battles raging below them.  Or rather... Kio had the grace to keep Riden quiet, and everyone else knew their place.  Ethan worried about Allen and Angelina... he'd caught a glimpse of the girl's bloodstained dress and the bandaged wound at Allen's side... but he'd been unable to ask.

 The pierced boy sighed softly, looking out the window.  Below them, men died in a variety of ways.

 This... seemed so normal to the people here.  He couldn't imagine it.

"There's a Zaibach air hospital south, southeast, Sarge," repeated Riden tentatively, his splinted arm held close to his chest as his other worked the periscope around to search out the massive levi-fortress. Gaddes bowed his head, pushing up out of his chair just enough to relieve the pressure that he couldn't feel in his rear.

 "Okay," he strained slightly, "Kio, turn us around - heading south, southeast towards that hospital. Ethan," he settled back into the seat and turned around to look at the boy, "The communication light - remember how I taught you to use it? I need you to request permission to dock. Can you do that?"

"Ah?"  Ethan drew himself out of his thoughts, glancing over.  Geez.. was he actually able to be useful?  The boy smiled a little, nodding to him.  "Sure thing."

When they drew near enough, when the traveling infirmary was in sight, he flipped on the little light, flashing it in the code that Gaddes had taken the time to teach him.  At least he finally could be something besides... useless.  Twice in one day, it was a record.  Or something.

When he heard the affirmative from Riden that they were allowed to dock, he smiled a little to himself.

Gaddes sniffed absently, nodding to Ethan but couldn't bring himself to give him a smile. "Good job, Ethan," he said. He was really proud of the kid, having learned skycode eagerly after his brother had gotten so involved in the work at the armory. The sergeant gave the orders to set the hull gently to the dock against the Zaibach building, before quickly gliding to Allen's room to pick up Angelina.

"We're at the hospital," said Gaddes quietly, coming to Angelina's side and gently lifting her to bring into his lap, "If you want to bring him."

Ethan glanced over at Gaddes, nodding a little to him... and caught the little smile Kio sent him.  Okay... so he'd been too hard on himself when he'd told himself that he didn't belong here.  He did.  He knew these people and cared for them... and they didn't mind him being there to begin with.  It was... it was nice, really.

Allen looked at his lover from where he'd settled beside Angelina, whom was now in Gaddes' lap.  The blonde nodded slightly, standing.  He'd finally convinced Hans to fall back asleep, to calm down the man, if only for a little.  

Sadly, he had to rouse him, getting him to stand, bearing a bit of the younger man's weight.

When they slipped outside into the hallway, Hans lifted his head at yet another call from the room.  "Gunter...?"  He murmured questioning to himself, getting Allen to help him over to the door.  The knight sighed softly... well, at least Hans knew him.  Allen opened the door, one arm around Hans' waist to help him stay standing.

Gunter rolled out of the maintenance panel, awkwardly onto his side, soiled and dirty and groaning from being scrunched up in such a tightly enclosed place. He coughed, righting himself slowly onto his hands and knees. "Hans," he choked, catching his breath. He looked up to see his friend leaning heavily upon the knight. Grabbing along the wall, he managed to stand, panting. 

The fresh air felt good in his lungs. He looked around the corridor, seeing no one else but the knight he had helped rescue and Hans. Slowly, he turned his gaze back to Hans, who was watching him intently. "I stowed away to escape the ship. My friend . . . I'm sorry, for everything, I'm so sorry," he said in Basramese.

Hans was silent, looking at him.  For the moment, his arm was forgotten.  He cocked his head to the side a little, looking, confused, at his childhood friend.  "What... are you sorry for?"  He winced slightly at the flickering of pain that slithered through the nerves that still survived, but still looked at the other with that confused expression on his handsome face.

The young healer realized his friend was still not within his wits. Even still, he needed to be careful. Something like that could upset even the strongest of men, break their resolve - and he would blame Gunter for taking away what pride he had left, even the healer calculated the man's thoughts correctly. 

"I - am glad to see you alive, of course," said Gunter with a faltering smile, going to his friend to bear his weight for the knight, "Please, let me help you to the Zaibach hospital. I will be sure they take care of you, my dear good friend."

Hans looked at Gunter silently for a moment, then resigned.  At least... not everyone in Basram had deserted him. The young man sighed softly, noting with some confusion how Allen didn't easily relinquish his aid.  It was like the knight really did want to help him.  Even if he was told nothing of the blank spot in his memory, he wouldn't bother questioning... not now at least.  He just knew that he felt so tired, aching.

"Lassen Sie mich ihn nehmen, bitte," said the healer desperately to Allen, knowing he couldn't understand but hoping that his tone would convey his feelings. He needed to be there for the friend he thought he'd lost, the friend who had been there to defend him from his father, from the bullies in their childhood - it was Gunter's turn to show Hans he could take care of him in turn.

Hans turned his gaze to Allen, ready to translate when he saw the knight smile, just faintly.  The blonde did let go, inclining his head.  This was the man that had helped he and Angelina... he could do this for him.  He nodded, then turned, motioning for them to follow him as he made his way down the hall towards the docking port.  

To Hans, it was awkward.  For one, with the missing limb, and secondly... now it was the slim healer than was helping him.  But he was glad that there was someone from his past that still would dare to make connections.

~

The medical aid of Zaibach was strange to the Basram healer. While Basram was not too far behind Zaibach's technology, the latter was still far more advanced than any procedure the young healer had seen. Their manner was odd, as well. The moment that Gunter came in with Hans leaning upon him, orderlies rushed them into a room after a few brief questions in broken Basramese and immediately started poking and prodding the ex-soldier as he was settled into a spare bed. 

There were many soldiers there, many ships docked in the Zaibach air hospital high above the clouds, and even more bodies covered with sheets or in black canvas bags. It seemed like a blessing to have an abundance of Zaibach healers, enough people to even worry over Hans' missing limb and Angelina's comatose form. At least two nurses and a doctor, an older, stern faced man, were fussing over Hans, taking notes as they prodded his stump, his temperature, blood pressure . . . 

Hans was silent, except for those hisses from when the still aching remnants of his limb were prodded or moved.  It did hurt... the dull, thick throb of pain pulsing.  It was so odd, so horrifying... sometimes his heart would flutter in panic when he'd catch sight of the wound, of where his arm should have been.  But he was glad that Gunter was there, that he was at his side.  Something familiar, something to find even a little bit of strength in.

"The wound is fresh," said the doctor apathetically, the stump in his hand as he was removing the hard layers of bandages around it. "Good, mmm, yes. You did well here, Gunter." 

Hans stared off to the side glumly.  Even though he had Gunter there... there was still the sorrow... the feeling of uselessness.  What good would he be to anyone now, after all?

"T-Thank you," said Gunter uncertainly, looking at his friend in concern. What a terrible thing to say in front of the patient, he thought. It was as if Hans was nothing more than a lab specimen now, something to examine and poke and prod, without feeling or emotion or voice. Gunter nearly said something in Hans' defense, about how rude these healers were behaving but he was interrupted.

 Another nurse came in with what looked like - specs, pamphlets with various drawings and schematics of some sort of engineered machinery. While the doctor examined the fresh stitching on Hans' stump, the nurse handed Hans the drawings. Gunter took them, however, and upon inspection saw that they were blueprints for a mechanical arm.

 "Mien Gott . . .," said the Basram healer, showing the drawings to his dazed friend. The arm the drawings depicted was covered in plates, pieced together with metal and showing the inner workings at certain choice areas. It was cut off at about the same place Hans' stump began, showing another piece separate from the arm that would be installed on the remaining flesh - a detachable prosthetic.

Hans was silent, looking at the blueprints dully.  Metal.  Part of his body made of metal... he wouldn't be human.  That wasn't human, that was... it seemed so wrong.    The soldier sighed softly, bowing his head a little.  It was almost, really, as if these people didn't care about his health.  Everyone, everything was so cold, so sterile, so distant.

The doctor saw Hans' reaction and shrugged, replacing the bandages with a sort of cap made of a very flexible, rubber material. It was odd in that it was clear, so the skin around the stitches and stump could be seen pressed inside of it, and it automatically molded to the formation of the remaining appendage. It breathed just as well as bandages, and kept the skin around it cool, as well.

"It is up to you," said the doctor uncompassionately, "We could have you installed with a new arm in a few hours. Or you can live the rest of your life with one arm. The choice is yours, of course."

"Ja," he murmured softly, dejectedly.  He'd do it... he could protect Angelina again, maybe successfully now.  He'd been told that she was alive, though in an unconscious state... at least she was alive.  Besides that one, quiet word, he was silent, his eyes downcast.

~

The whole crew of the Crusade were given examinations, complimentary for the war effort, of course. Riden's arm was treated, cooled, and surgically mended. Put in a plaster cast, he was told that it would be fully healed within two days, which didn't cease to amaze him or any of the rest of crew. The rest of them were fairly uninjured, save for a few cuts, scratches, or bruises after escaping the Reichmann's Flame. They were all treated for shock, however; a concept only Chris and Ethan really understood. 

The brothers had nodded after being told this, and sat placidly as they were examined. Meanwhile, Kio and Pyle would flinch away and look at each other as an electric light was held to their eyes. Kio would say, "What are you doing? There's nothing wrong with me! I'm fine." To which Chris would simply smile and shake his head while the nurse explained *again* the repercussions of shock.

Gaddes had wounds on his legs that he didn't know were there. The leather pants were practically ripped off of him in the examination room he was taken to while a nurse took his temperature and blood pressure. The bullet wounds had begun to turn a little blue around the aggravated area, and though Gaddes kept complaining that he was fine, he was then told he was feverish and needed to be put to bed immediately. After much arguing, he was successfully shifted into a bed and given an IV drip of something to help fight off infection.

Angelina was the hardest to treat. The little girl was so small, her body so thin and fragile, that she was lucky to be alive at all - even if it was just barely. The Zaibach healers did all they could do for her, having been informed of the transfusion of blood from her father. Though she looked horrible, having been cleaned up quickly, put into a simple white shift and then promptly prodded and pierced with and IV needle and wires, a tube shoved down her throat - the nurses had to assure Allen it was all for her benefit.

As the nurses finished with the last of their duties around Angelina's care, the last one to linger was her doctor. She was young, having introduced herself as Doctor Bethesda Zimmerman to Allen, and she was by far the most alive person out of Zaibach yet; she even offered reassuring smiles, which was rare.

Allen was taken care of... after being reassured that Angelina would be fine.  At first, he hadn't been very keen on the idea of leaving the girl's side, but eventually he was convinced.  When he could manage, he would be beside her, watching her... at first, utterly horrified by the tubes and IVs.  Still, he was upset by them, shaken by their appearances.  It was... odd, horrible.

Gunter told him of the steel plated arm that was going to be fashioned for Hans and he managed a slight smile.  It would be odd, at first, to have one among them with a metal appendage, but he would do fine.  All of them were oddities, after all... why not one other thing to add to the list?

Dr. Zimmerman wore long white robes with Zaibach symbols embroidered along the hems and cuffs, apparently traditional for all Zaibach healers to wear. She was rather comely compared to her colleagues - not hard faced with chiseled features, but rather soft around her eyes and round in her cheeks, like she came from a relatively happy family. She had a board in hand, with a clip at the end that held documents regarding Angelina's health. 

"Sir Schezar," said the young doctor to Allen after she came back from looking in on Gaddes. She was given charge of the entire crew of the Crusade, and she almost seemed - happy for it, "I though I would come back to check on you and your daughter."

"Ah?"  He blinked a little, glancing over at the doctor, nodding to her.  It was interesting how different she was from the others there, from the other cold healers.  She was...welcoming, really.  And that was nice in such an utterly different place.  The technology he still wasn't used to, the wires and beeping and everything.  It was far too foreign.

The woman pursed her lips, licking them and making her cheeks dimple slightly with the movement. She looked towards Angelina, and almost became sad with the news she had for her father. The little angel, as she was becoming known down the halls of this ward - now covered with blankets and pinched with needles, wires, and tubes in several places. Her hair was dulled and wavy after having been washed properly of the blood that matted it earlier.

 Dr. Zimmer took a seat next to Allen, who was holding his daughter's hand, and situated the clipboard in her lap. "You have many scars, Sir Schezar," began the doctor quietly, "I noticed your wound was very near two others. It is no wonder you were able to survive."

"I have been through another war before this, as well as a few other incidents," he murmured, inclining his head a little.  His blindness... he wouldn't mention.  That was gone now, as far as he knew.  He turned his gaze to his daughter, a soft sigh on his lips.  He'd been through so much... and already she, too, was going through a series of trials.  After a moment, he turned his head toward the doctor, quirking a brow slightly.

Bethesda saw the look, the fine blond eyebrow raise slightly in question, and nodded automatically. She had come for a reason, it was true, and it was not to flirt with a distraught soldier in this horrible war. "Your daughter is in what we call a comatose state, Sir Schezar," she began carefully.

Allen... could tell this wasn't really a good thing.  He looked at her, nodding slightly.  "Do... you know how long it'll last?"  He was distraught, worried over her.  Panicked, really.  But his fingers still curled slightly around his daughter's, the other resting on his thigh.

"That is where it gets complicated," admitted the young doctor. She couldn't look the handsome knight in the eyes anymore, needing to avert her gaze for delivering such awful news, "The brain is complicated. Even Zaibach has little knowledge on its inner workings. Angelina's brain was without oxygen for longer than it can be to survive. We don't know if she will - ever - wake . . . and if she does, there might be too much damage to her brain."

Allen looked at her calmly for a moment before he slowly trailed his gaze to Angelina's small form.  Nothing... could ever go right for these people, could they?  He curled some of the ringlets in his fingers, biting down gently on his bottom lip.  Turmoil burned within him... he wanted to cry, but he wasn't sure he had any tears left to shed.  He wanted to clasp her near him and protect her from everything... but the damage was done, wasn't it?  She couldn't be blessed with something resembling a normal life, could she?

 Perhaps it all went back to the sin he and his sister had committed.  It was all their fault.

 "And.... and what do you mean by 'damage'?  What will happen?" he asked softly, not lifting his gaze, his voice quivering slightly.

Allen's grief was palpable, filling the room, and enclosing around Bethesda as well. She could feel his sorrow, and it nearly choked her when she saw the pained look in his eyes. Such sadness - she had witnessed it before, during the Great War, but this was something so personal, and intimate. This was a little girl's life hanging in the balance, so beautiful and fair was she and yet she might not get the chance to live.

 Dr. Zimmerman swallowed painfully, "Speech . . . normal thought processes, equilibrium, movement. Or in extreme cases - all of those. She would be awake but unable to communicate or move, walk, or talk."

"Is there anything we can do?  Anything I can do?"  He didn't care what it was... if it was something that could help her, if it was something that could save his angel, his princess, then he would have no quarrel with it.  She couldn't see as it was... what if she lost other senses?

"I'm afraid all we can do - is wait," finished the doctor sadly. There was nothing more to say, nothing else to tell this man about his daughter. She had said everything that was important, and was saddened that she couldn't say there was something that could be done. No cure or treatment could bring the girl out of her coma, as much as Dr. Zimmerman wanted there to be.

"I'm sorry, Sir Schezar," said Bethesda quietly.

Allen was silent for a long moment, his head bowed, eyes on his daughter.  It hurt so much to think that she might not wake, to think that she might be... disabled even more than she already was.  He stroked her hair softly with a trembling hand, unable to say anything but a quivering "thank you," to the doctor.  They were doing everything they could... what more could he ask for besides a miracle?

"Of course," came the quiet reply. Dr. Zimmerman stood, adjusting the clipboard in hand as she walked over to the door of Angelina's tiny room. There she stopped with her hand poised over the knob, thinking and concluding on her thoughts. She turned and said, "I have charge over your crew, Sir Schezar, as well as Angelina. At the very least, I can report their health to be adequate. Though your sergeant Gaddes is being treated for blood infection, his wounds are clean and show no signs of gangrene. He will be fine after the fever breaks."

Allen nodded slightly.  "Thank you," he whispered, unable to keep the quaking from his hands and voice.  His daughter... so marred, so changed.  It hurt so much to think about it, to see her like that, to know that she very well might not live through this.  Or if she did... she could very likely be disabled.  The news of Gaddes he would focus on later when he forced himself to not think of his daughter's condition so harshly.

With a final nod, Dr. Zimmerman left the man to his grief to continue with her own duties to the rest of the ailing soldiers.


	45. Little by Little

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Little by Little**

Word had come to the floating hospital that the war with Basram was near an end. The armies surrounding Palas were essentially defeated with the appearance of the Allies of Daedalus and Cesario, beating back the guymelef's and bringing down the air galleons that held bombs before they could be dropped. Riflemen still managed to kill many thousands of soldiers, cannons firing toward guymelefs rendering even more of the Allies useless or dead.

Within a day, the tables turned in their favor, and Basram was beginning to relinquish its hold upon the capital of Asturia and flee its diminishing armies. That morning, there were cheers from the soldiers within the halls and corridors of the Zaibach hospital.

Gaddes had finally been allowed to leave his bed once his fever broke, given a pair of black cotton pants to wear over his boots after the leather ones were peeled off of him the night before. Haphazardly and a bit clumsily, he slipped into his chair and made it out into the hall.

"Holy mother of . . .," the sight that caught his eyes was breathtakingly painful. He had never seen so many men, soldiers, bandaged, in wheelchairs not unlike his own, missing arms and legs or both, lining and crowding the halls of the hospital. Some moaned in pain while nurses administered syringes full of red stuff into their arms or whatever was left of an appendage . . . so many maimed. So many helpless and in pain. The utter shock upon the sergeants face was hard to miss.

Allen had rarely left his room, had hardly eaten unless the doctors forced him to.  He wanted to be there when Angelina woke.  He was assured that it wouldn't be for some time, but he didn't care.  He'd be there.  He had to be there.  He would curl up with her, always wary of the tubes and such things that came from her flesh, and pet her hair, whisper to her.  He loved her so much...

Hans had only Gunter with him, but even then, the young healer had been tugged off a few times to help with some of the minor injured patients.  The young man was silent much, aloof.  He'd fallen into another one of those weird states where he took up speaking softly to himself and of his father's death.  The arm had not yet been fashioned for him--they promised it when they had the time, when their halls were not so filled with the injured.

Grabbing the sleeve of one of the white robed orderlies that passed him, Gaddes managed to find where Allen and Angelina were. He was haphazardly directed down the hall, and carefully made his way passed the multitude of ailing soldiers, having to move around gurneys or stop suddenly before colliding into a rushing nurse with a tray full of medication.

 He turned the knob of the door he was directed too, and quickly rolled inside, letting the door shut automatically behind him with a soft hiss. Gaddes' head already swelled with grief for the soldiers, but his heart finally broke at the sight of Angelina. She'd grown so pale, and her hair no longer shined as it once had with glints of silver.

 "Oh, no," he breathed.

Allen was silent, curled up on his side beside her.  He stroked her hair softly, barely lifting his head and turning his sorrowed gaze toward his lover.  "She.... they said... Gaddes.... s-she... might not wake up," he whispered, his voice thick with trembles.

"Allen . . .," he whispered softly, carefully, his tone heavy and full of sorrow. Slowly, he approached the bedside, where Allen's back was facing the sergeant. Gaddes lifted his arm, resting it around Allen's middle in a sort of half-hug from where he sat in his chair and where Allen lay upon the bed. "She will," he assured his lover quietly, "She will wake up again."

"A-and they said... that... she might... Gods, Gaddes, she won't be the same."  Allen rolled over, burying his head into the other's shoulder, shuddering.  

"What do you mean?" came the frightened whisper of the sergeant, holding Allen gently even though his own arms began to tremble, "Of - of course she will. She'll wake up and we'll stay out of wars and battles for good so that we can raise her like we wanted to."

"They said," he whispered softly, "that she... she might... not be able to do things.  Talking... or... or moving..." The knight curled his fingers into the other's chest, a pained shudder running through him.  He cried, a soft sob slipping from his lips, clinging to the older man.

~

 The smoke from the battlefields below stopped rising eventually. The Basram fortresses confiscated, soldiers imprisoned, and it was finally over. Basram was more or less crippled in power after its impulsive efforts to overthrow the richest nation in the world, and now all Asturia had left to do was clean up the after math.

Soldiers died within the walls of the Zaibach hospital, floating at a safer altitude now that the battles have ceased. Many with missing limbs were treated as well as they could be, fitted with prosthetics designed in labs located right on board. Many legless men left the hospital walking on new limbs, the armless carrying their children or holding the hand of their wife with new metal hands and arms.

By the time most of the soldiers had been treated and discharged from Zaibach's care, there were no materials left for Hans' own missing appendage. Gunter felt horrible for his friend, after he was discharged without the hope of acquiring the strength of what he once was. The doctors had apologized profusely, had tried to explain that they did all they could do. All that was left for Hans was for him to live with one arm, until such a time when he could go back to Zaibach and be fitted with a prosthetic of his own. For now, though, his stump had been cleaned, and mended to the best of Zaibach's ability.

Hans, in one of his moods, had only bitterly smiled.  He'd said nothing once the news had been delivered, just bowed his head, long locks of blonde slipping over his shoulders.  When he walked outside, after blinking back the spots from the sudden glare of sunlight, he turned his gaze to his friend, giving a small, sad smile.  He ached, finally learning he'd slain his father himself, knowing he would live--at least for now--with only one arm.  

"What good am I?"  He asked Gunter quietly, his sorrow mirrored in his eyes.  "I'm nothing but a cripple now."

Gaddes came from the hull of the Crusade, rolling onto the docking platform to make sure everyone was on. Gunter saw the man come, before he could answer his friend with reassuring words. Days would be dark for a long time, and it weighed heavily upon everyone's hearts.

"Come on," said Gaddes to them in Asturian, making Gunter look to Hans for translation, "We're going home. Angelina's already on board. Everyone else is waiting." It wasn't a secret that Gaddes didn't like Hans, that the sergeant only tolerated the ex-Basram soldier, and within good reason. His little girl, the Crusade's Angel was lying in a coma upon her father's bed from a bullet that came from the General's gun, Hans' father - lay dying for all they knew, or rendered helpless for the rest of her life due to a war that Basram started.

It was no surprise that his words were short to the one-armed soldier.

Hans turned silently, motioning vaguely for Gunter to follow.  Quietly, he made his way onboard, ignoring any of the glances he got.  Few were welcoming.  They had all seen the destruction rendered by Basram... and he was, in the end, still Basram.  He may have murdered his father... but even still... he had wielded those rifles once.  He had slain Asturian soldiers.

It was no surprise to him that he wasn't allowed to see Angelina.

With curt orders from Gaddes, the ship lifted from the dock, propellers whirling, and the engine humming from deep within the airship. The Zaibach hospital was not far from Palas, only twenty miles south and off the coast a ways. So the flight back to Allen's home was not long. Gunter had been taken up as the ship's healer for the time being, making sure their wounded were comfortable, but mostly given charge over Angelina.

To everyone's relief, Schezar Manor was left relatively unscathed, with only a few bullet holes riddling the front of the house, and a shattered parlor window. The building was quickly checked over, and with Kio and Pyle cleaning up what little debris there was in the parlor, Angelina was moved inside. 

The little girl was beyond medication, her breathing having stabilized over the course of her stay in the hospital, and internal organs repaired to the best of Zaibach's ability. She was in near perfect health after coming out of the super advanced infirmary, except that she would not wake.

They settled her into her tiny bed, doted on her sleeping form for many days while the house was repaired. Plaster was applied to the holes on the front. After two weeks, glass was replaced in the windowpane of the parlor. The world carried on, the sun set and rose and set again - and the fair Angel of Schezar Manor slept.

Hans, for the most part, was not called upon.  One-armed, he could not do much of anything for these people.  And so, he fell into his silence... without Angelina to entertain him, to keep him from his dark thoughts, he was lost, fighting a battle he had fought before within the Palas dungeons.  He had no family, no home, his body ruined, his kitten asleep, quite possibly never to awaken.  He didn't see much, if any, joy in the life he lived... and only wished he had the courage to be rid of it himself.

Allen saw to Angelina every day, whenever he could spare a moment.  He wanted to be there when she awoke, even if she would not see him.  He wanted to be there, to hold her and comfort her and promise that everything would be alright.

It was yet another day of peaceful calm, something that was so foreign now to the war torn areas of Palas. Slowly, fields were cleared, houses repaired, and the sky even seemed to be a brighter shade of blue. Riden came into the princess' room, quietly, and stopped at the doorway when he saw his captain cradling her like a babe. Allen dressed her every morning, put her hair up in those familiar ringlets, as if she were to wake up and ask to go outside to play any moment. But after each morning, the knight would resign himself to holding her and rocking her. 

Riden had half a mind to turn away and head back out, were it not on the sergeant's orders that he summon his captain. He waited a few moments, respectfully, before speaking.

"Uh, b-boss?" he whispered cautiously.

Allen turned his gaze towards Riden silently.  He had no words to say at the moment.  He knew it was something important, though, if he was being disturbed.  The blonde cocked his head to the side slightly, watching the smaller man, waiting.  Likely, it was something from Gaddes

Riden bit his lip, mumbling slightly as he jabbed a thumb behind him towards the door. "Um - uh - the, uh, Sarge . . ." he fumbled awkwardly.

The blonde uncurled his arms from around the girl, settling her down before he stood.  A lingering glance was given to her and then he turned, nodding slightly and walking to the door where the other waited.  "Do you know what it's about?"

"N-No, boss," said the little soldier, following Allen out and down the hall, "He - uh - just said to come and get you."

Allen nodded slightly, making sure the door was closed behind him, and followed to other out and to where Gaddes waited.  He was pretty sure it wasn't anything utterly heartbreaking or anything... but he didn't take the chance in case it wasn't.  As they passed the room Hans was in, they heard the soft murmurings from within... and who knew if they were from both the Basrams who stayed here or simply Hans?  It was hard to tell recently.

Gaddes had his own bedroom downstairs where he had access to it, stairs having become a particular enemy of his. The room was simply decorated, and he even had a window above his bed where he could fall asleep staring up at the night sky if he chose to. He waited there now, with his door wide open and sitting by the bedside table. It was morning, so he was just waking up himself, still dressed in night robes he'd borrowed from Allen.

"Riden, close the door behind you, could you?" said the sergeant as they came into his room. The little soldier nodded in compliance and left them to talk privately, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Allen quirked a brow slightly, approaching the other quietly.  "What is it?"  A little bit of worry lingered... hoping Gaddes was alright, that it wasn't bad news that he had.

Gaddes only slouched slightly in his wheelchair, his feet still bare and at a slanted angle from dragging himself out of bed. In his hands he held documents, with seals that were recently broken. It seemed he was reading both of them very meticulously. "My discharge papers came just a few minutes ago," he said absently.

Allen blinked a little, biting down on his bottom lip.  The blonde walked quietly over to him, curling his arms around his lover's shoulders.  He knew it wouldn't do much to help Gaddes' general feelings on the matter of his handicap... knew that for sure.  He sighed softly, chin resting on Gaddes' shoulder, cerulean eyes lingering on the papers in the other's hands.  "But... you'll stay, right?"  He could only hope... after all, Chris, Ethan, Hans, Riden and Gunter weren't military anymore... or never were.  But they stayed... he didn't know what he'd do if he lost Gaddes.

Gaddes huffed sadly, "Yeah, I'll stay. But - Allen . . ." The ex-soldier looked down at the papers in his hands, drawing forth the second document with the broken seal, scrutinizing it carefully before pulling back long enough to share a thoughtful gaze with his lover. "This one's yours," he whispered.

Allen blinked slightly, a faint frown on his lips.  He took the paper carefully in hand, gazing at it.  A flutter in his heart made him worry... were they discharging him, as well?  He nibbled lightly on his bottom lip as he read over the contents.

"Sir Laison died in the last battle," explained Gaddes quietly, moving his chair away to lean back against the wall, "The Caeli Knights have been disbanded."

Allen stared at the paper in his hands, disbelief written on his face.  His hands trembled... everything... everything in his life was falling apart.  He was the only one left... the youngest, the only survivor.  Allen swallowed tensely, unable to stop the tears in his eyes.  So soon after he'd gained back his knighthood and again it was torn from him.  There were no more knights.  What good would it do to have one?  Allen couldn't think of anything to say, his breath catching slightly.

Allen's reaction was not entirely unexpected, though Gaddes was unprepared for the tears and the trembling. He had thought Allen to be angry, and so he had moved away to avoid the former knight's wrath. But instead, he moved to his bespectacled lover, adjusting himself in his chair to sit up straight before taking Allen's hand and tugging him down into his lap.

"Really rather rotten of them, isn't it?" whispered Gaddes into Allen's hair.

Allen closed his eyes tightly... anger would come later.  But for now, the shock and horror would linger.  They took from one thing he held so dear... the war had taken so many others.  The paper crumbled in his hands as he clung to Gaddes, trying to fight back the tears.  He'd cried so much recently, it seemed too much.

But this was like a stab in the heart.  There were others, surely, good enough to be knights.  Somewhere in Asturia, there had to be someone besides himself.  The knighthood meant so much to him, made him feel so proud...

But then again... what would they want with him?  He was the only one left... and he didn't even have his uniform anymore.  He kept with him a mismatched crew: a blinded--and quite possibly more--daughter, a pair of Basram-borns, two from the Mystic Moon, his crippled second-in-command... it was, perhaps, a mar to the country's face.

"Boss! Boss!" came Riden's shrill cry from outside of Gaddes' room, the small soldier's steps romping down the stairs before he practically fell against the sergeant's door to beat upon it with an excited fist, "Boss, come quick! You've got to come! Angelina! It's Angelina!"

Allen lifted his head, setting the paper aside as he stood, turning and walking to the door, jerking it open with one hand as he reached up to wipe at his eyes.  He looked at the smaller man, arching a brow.  "What?  What about her?"  He didn't wait for an answer.  Instead, he moved past him, padding quickly up the steps and to the room she lay within.

Gaddes could only follow up to the bottom of the staircase, staring up from his chair as Allen ascended and gripping his wheels in frustration. There was nothing he could do to go up those stairs, so he resigned himself to waiting. Riden, on the other hand, hastily followed behind his captain, talking rapidly before they finally reached the bedroom.

"She's awake! Awake, boss! She asked for you! I heard her!" said the little soldier.

Allen pushed open to door to her room, his earlier sorrow for now forgotten.  He paused in the doorway, letting his gaze slowly turn to the bed.  "Princess," he murmured softly, cocking his head to the side slightly.

At the slightest sound of her father's sweet voice, Angelina's arm lifted straight up into the air, her eyes still closed. Her mouth seemed to be struggling with words, working awkwardly, slowly around the word 'father' and emitting something that sounded more like, "Faaa . . ."

Allen paused... then padded over to her side, sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging her close to him.    He ran his fingers thought her hair, closing his eyes.  "hush, princess, hush..."

"Faaa . . ." was all Angelina could croak out, stumbling even over that syllable and stuttering the 'F' several times. Her arm fell tiredly at her side, her eyes finally opening to feel air upon them and tell her that she was awake. She didn't cry, didn't move much after having lifted her arm - now tucked protectively at her chest in an awkward angle.

Kio came in with Gaddes in his arms, having been ordered to take the sergeant up the stairs before he was given a swift caning . . . or so the threat would be translated later. For now, Gaddes desperately reached for his family, grown frantic at Kio's slow pace when he heard Angelina's voice before he was settled onto Angelina's bed near the two of them.

Allen bowed his head slightly, holding the girl close to him.  He glanced up when Gaddes drew nearer, managing a little smile.  Maybe they were right.  Maybe her brain had been damaged... but she was awake nonetheless... and that was what mattered.

Gaddes could have cried, but instead he kept his resolve long enough to scoot nearer to the edge of the bed, where Allen was holding the mumbling little girl. "F-Faaa . . .," she kept saying, dragging out the vowel awkwardly in a choked sob, "Faaather . . . f-father! Father!" Gaddes' heart leapt into his throat, reaching for her and Allen.

"Oh, gods," he whispered, "She can still talk . . ."

Allen looked over at Gaddes, nodding a little.  It would, then, be a test of whether or not she could do the other things.  Hopefully she wouldn't have to stumble over everything when she spoke.  "Shh, Princess, I'm here.  And Gaddes, too, he's right here."  He gently rested one of her hands on Gaddes' arm, scooting closer to him.

Angelina turned her head slightly at the touch, her eyes flitting helplessly while her uncle held out his hands and bit his lip. He drew near enough to half hold her with her father, his hands moving to stroke her hair. The little hand that was place on his arm was quickly taken up by his own.

 "G-Gaaa . . . Unnn," murmured Angelina, straining, "Unnncle . . . Uncle! Gaadess. Uncle Gaddes. Father. Uncle Gaddes." 

 "Oh, Angelina," cried her uncle, struggling to place a tender kiss upon her fair little cheek, "We've missed you. I love you, Angelina."

Allen smiled softly.  If she had to relearn all the words again, it would be alright.  They could deal with that... but it would be horrible for her to have to do so.  Allen sighed softly, her small frame curled close to the both of them.  She was back... they were a family all over again.  Everything would be fine..

~

The day had only begun, so they decided to take Angelina out of her room in hopes of getting her reacquainted with the waking world. Gaddes was put back in his chair long enough to dress before the confused and still immobile little girl was placed in his lap. The discharge papers were forgotten for that day, as Gaddes gladly took Angelina around the bottom floor of the house with one hand keeping her steady.

 "She seems to understand us," said Gaddes to Allen over his shoulder, gliding into parlor where some of Angelina's dolls were carefully placed upon the couch by her father while they had still waited for her to wake, "But will she be able to . . . to . . . walk . . . again?" Just the thought was painful for Gaddes, having to go through life in his chair. Angelina was already blind. She didn't need that pain, that frustration he had to go through.

"I don't know," he said softly, nodding, "I certainly hope so."  Allen gently stroked her hair, walking along beside them.  For now, the loss of his knighthood was forgotten, to be brought up and be angry about later.  But she was back... it was wonderful.  She was awake between them, and could speak, though with some difficulty.  That's what mattered.  That was what truly mattered in the end

Angelina sat unsteadily upon Gaddes' lap, her right hand clutched awkwardly to her chest as the other was lax beside her. Gaddes stopped his chair, picking up one of the dolls at the couch and holding it before the little girl, the doll's hair tickling Angelina's cheek. She flinched slightly.

 "Emily," said Gaddes, "Do you remember your doll, Angelina? Her name is Emily."

 "Em... Em," murmered Angelina, but seemed unable to say the word beyond that, "Em, Em."

Allen stroked her hair softly, biting down on his bottom lip.  "It's alright Princess, we'll try again, later..."  He wouldn't force her into the right as she woke up... though he did realize that they were going to have to force her through it all over again.  It hurt to hear her unable to speak as clearly as she had before... but she was awake,.

Gunter had been watching the scene with Angelina from the stairs, seeing the wheels of the paralyzed man in the parlor, and a glint of her sliver hair where she sat on his lap. Though he was unable to understand the words between them and the tall blond man with glasses, he knew of the girl's closeness to Hans. He quickly made his way back to Hans' room, carrying the tray of shaving items.

Hans was silent in his room as he had been since they'd gotten back, for the most part.  He'd lost some of the muscle that he'd gained back aboard the Crusade, no longer caring of the stubble that nicked at his chin.  He had returned to eating only when Gunter was there to insist upon it, to force him to do so.  Useless.  That's all he was.  He was Basram... that had to be why he, even after promised the prosthetic appendage, had been last to receive... and hadn't received at all.  It was only right, really... because of him, his father had shot Angelina, because it was obvious that she meant something to him, his father had destroyed that girl's life.  

"Hans," Gunter said, closing the door behind him and setting the tray down quickly beside the bed, "The little girl. . . she's awakened."

Hans slowly turned his gaze toward Gunter, then sighed softly after a moment, bowing his head.  "It's not like I'll be able to see her."  They'd already kept him from seeing her before, why would they let her near him now?  If he'd kept better care of her, she never would have been in the Basram ship to begin with.

"But you love her, don't you?" said Gunter timidly, preparing a shaving foam in a bowl with a whisk, "Why don't you come out of your room after I've finished shaving you and go down to see her. Sir Schezar seems like he's amiable . . . "

"I won't bother them," he said softly, shaking his head slightly.   "They need their time with her."  They were her family... not him.

Gunter smiled gently, always the more sympathetic of the two of them. His heart was always full of hopeless compassion, no matter how much devastation he was thrust into. The foam was ready, and he set the whisk inside the bowl, carrying the tray next to where Hans sat in a straight backed chair. 

 "You are young," said the young healer, being a year younger than his friend himself. He used a towel to set it into Hans' collar like a smock, picking up the whisk to spread the foam over Hans' stubble, "I can easily see her growing up to be your wife."

Hans smirked bitterly, shaking his head.  "What a pair we would make," he murmured, sighing.  "Nein... she won't be my wife.  They wouldn't approve of it, at all.  It is, after all, my fault."

 They were both crippled... how pitiful a pair they would be.

"Again I ask if you even love the girl," said Gunter sadly, sufficiently covering Hans' stubble before taking up a position behind his friend with the straight razor. He knew his friend would not be able to reply while he shaved him, and he did so carefully as he spoke to him, "You know she reminds you of Heidi. You've told me as much. Of course, the little one is only six years old, but that does not mean she does not truly love you. And if she eventually grows affections for you when she is older? Would you truly and honestly turn her away?

 Did you tell me that she was the only thing that kept you sane in this country before her father took you on as one of his crew? The only thing that kept you safe. In fact, you told me she was the only one who truly loved you for who you were. Now - do you think something like your arm being gone is going to stop her from loving you when she already saw the true shape of your heart?" He finished the last with the last stroke of the razor, pulling back and using the towel to wipe away the foam that was left.

"Things aren't that easy," he said softly, bowing his head.  She did mean so much to him.  She'd done so much and he didn't have any way to repay her.  If she loved him, then he would accept it and... indeed, he would return it.  He wouldn't be able to deny her what she asked, wouldn't be able to turn her away.  She was too precious, too beautiful, too perfect.

 It was he that was marred.

"I think they are," said Gunter, removing the smock and helping Hans to stand. He smiled up at his taller friend, noticing how thin he had gotten after so many weeks of staying indoors. His hair was dulled slightly, and his skin so pale from hardly seeing the sunlight, "It is just that you do not let things to be easy."

"Nein... maybe I don't.  But I can't help it," he said softly, shaking his head.  It couldn't be that simple for him, not this, not her.  There were so many things that had happened in such a short amount of time... it was too hard to fathom it all.

Gunter began to affix the left sleeve of Hans' flowing shirt with small pin, rolling up the fabric to the very bottom of the ex-soldier's left stump before piercing the sleeve and blunting it was small stopper. Giving his companion a once over, he nodded to himself with a slight smile. Even depressed and dejected as he was, Hans made a very good sight for any lady to oogle over - even Gunter had to admit it.

 "You look dashing again, my friend," said Gunter delightfully.

Hans turned his head away slightly.  "I'm a cripple," he said simply.  He knew he'd begun to waste away again.  His color wasn't healthy, he barely had any energy these past few days.  He didn't smile or laugh or joke as he had done before.  He had known he was attractive at one point in time... but a quick glance in the mirror near him showed nothing but a shell of what he once was.  The empty sleeve was just another horror to behold.

Gunter said nothing to his friend's comment, merely tugging on Hans' right arm and guiding him to the door. "Come," he said gently to him, "Let us go downstairs and greet the awakened angel."

The ex-soldier simply sighed, not bothering to argue.  He walked quietly with the other man, long hair draping over his shoulders.  He felt horrible.  He felt dread knotting in his chest.  Surely Gaddes and Allen would refuse him time to speak to the girl.

Gaddes and Allen had only moved around the parlor while Hans was being shaved. Gaddes looked up long enough to see them descending the stairs, the one armed soldier with his face downcast, his friend beside him with a worried look in his eyes. The scene seemed all too familiar to him, and he turned away, looking down at his precious cargo.

 Angelina stared blindly into nothing, though her left hand was being more adventures and scraping along her uncle's wheel before he forced it away so that they could move again. They went around the parlor, so that she could feel pillows, ceramic figurines, candles, and flowers - all with Allen watching sadly behind them.

Allen caught sight of the pair coming near them.  Hans looked so... dejected, as he had before within the dungeons.  He was starving himself again, he was sure of it.  Or trying to, anyway.  Allen knew that feeling well enough, and knew the feeling Gunter was surely experiencing.  Gaddes had been in that place once... and so had the blonde.  Allen turned his head back towards his daughter and lover, watching them silently.  Hopefully... she would be alright.

Gunter came into the parlor with Hans in tow, looking down at Gaddes and wishing he could say something that the sergeant would understand. Instead, he found he didn't have to.

 "You saved her life," said Gaddes quietly, looking up at Gunter with pained eyes, "And mine. And Allen's. And even Hans . . . Thank you." The look on Gunters face showed Gaddes that he didn't understand the words - but there was relief in his searching green eyes, that showed he understood their meaning. The young healer nodded, trying to smile for them before tugging Hans before the sergeant.

 "Go on," whispered Gunter to Hans, "Say hello to her."

Hans was silent for a long moment, looking at the blind girl.  She had saved his life several times.  He heard Gaddes' words, but paid them no heed.  They weren't directed at him... of course they wouldn't be.  He could feel Allen's gaze upon him for a few moments before he glanced away.  The ex-knight knew how it felt to be stared at like so.  

 More than a little conscious of the missing limb, Hans spoke softly, voice still holding that thick accent.  "Katzchen," he said quietly, looking at the girl.

Angelina's head lifted suddenly at the mention of her pet name, so suddenly that it startled Gaddes. She turned her head from side to side, her eyes widening with sudden realization. "H-Haans . . . Hans! Hans!" she cried out, her arms detaching from her chest and tumultuously reaching out to him, "Hans! Hans! L-Love . . . Love Hans. I love you, Hans! Where are you? Hold me, Hans! Hold me!"

Hans looked at her... how awkward it would be to hold her like this.  Aware of Allen's and Gaddes' startled expressions, a little surprised himself, he crouched down and lightly curled his arm around her small body, shifting a little closer and tugging her near him.  Feeling no resistance from Gaddes reassure him in the slightest... but not much.  Who knew how much time he had?  

Dazed and overwhelmed with relief and happiness, Gaddes made no effort to stop the man from taking Angelina from his lap. He watched as Hans held her carefully, with one strong arm wrapped securely around her as she embraced him around his neck and buried her face within his hair. In the end, it had taken Hans to break her stupor, to bring the angel back to her original state . . . 

Gaddes rolled backwards away from them, tears lingering in his hazel eyes as he haphazardly reached to take Allen's hand, squeezing it hard in his elation and not caring how it looked in front of the Basram men.

"Hans," cried Angelina, rubbing her nose against his ear, "I've missed you, Hans. I dreamed of you. I slept for a really long time and dreamed of you. I dreamed that you smelled just like this, and the you were holding me, and I was taller and bigger and wearing a pretty dress that felt soft, and we were outside playing . . . oh, Hans, Hans . . ." she went on saying his name until her voice finally choked on tears.

Hans closed his eyes, bowing his head a little.  He wanted to stroke her hair as he held her, he wanted to tell her that everything was alright... but he couldn't do either.  It was awkward enough holding her with his remaining arm and would be far worse doing as he wished.  And while it was wonderful that she was awake and well... he still felt his bitterness.  He was half the man that others were. He was smaller, thinner than he had been, but it didn't seem to bother her.  And likely she hadn't noticed the lack of his arm.  All for the better, then.  "Katzchen," he said softly, just simply holing her close to him.  She was alive... that was what mattered.

"Hans," Angelina repeated in a small voice, pressing her forehead to his cheek and nuzzling him like a kitten, "I love you, Hans."

"Shh, Katzchen... ja, I know..."  Hans just held her to him, his eyes still closed.  He wondered, idly, what her fathers thought about her saying such things to him, but... it didn't matter.  What could they do to keep her from doing so, after all?

"Angelina!" said Chris from around the corner, poking his head into the parlor after Riden went to gather everyone with the wonderful news. Their princess was awake and well. The girl's eldest Terran uncle sidled up to Hans and Angelina, her head perking up with a wide smile that showed all her baby teeth - and he hugged her and gave her a kiss on her cheek.

 "Uncle Chris!" she said happily, not relinquishing her hold on her Basram teddy bear, but gladly leaning into his affections. Riden soon came behind him, coming next to Hans and Chris and gently touching Angelina's cheek before planting a kiss in her hair. "Uncle Riden! Where's Uncle Kio?"

"Right here, my princess!" boomed Kio, huffing as he ran into the room. He had been hastily fetched from the stables and he ran to the house as fast as he could. He, too, came to touch her pretty little head with nothing but smiles for her.

 "And Uncle Ethan?" she said, bouncing a little in Hans' hold now that she was surrounded by most of her uncles, "Where's Uncle Ethan?"

"I'm right here, Angelina," he said from the doorway, smiling.  Not only was she awake... but Hans was doing something besides laying about, already things were looking better!  He padded quietly to their sides, crouching down and reaching out, lightly ruffling her curls.  "Right here."  He glanced at Hans... maybe now he'd fill out again.  Maybe now he'd take care of himself all over again.  Having her near seemed to have done it to him before. after all.


	46. Twin Stars in the Twilight

**Darkness in the Twilight**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal**

**Twin Stars in the Twilight**

Hans had, just as Ethan had thought, begun to take a bit better care of himself.  Still there were times when he would go without eating, but more often he would relent without much argument.  It wasn't until later, a few days later in fact, that Angelina questioned why Hans didn't hold her the same way, and eventually asked about the odd bulge that appeared in place of his left arm. So weakened still by her month long state of being bedridden, she was forced to depend on others to carry her around for a while until her muscles redeveloped - Gunter showing her father's some good exercises for her that she was required to do everyday.

 It was after one of these sessions, when she had requested to nap with Hans, that the questions arose. "Hans," began Angelina quietly, laying calmly upon the bed dressed in a pretty blue dress, "Where's your arm?"

 Well, children weren't really known for their sense of tact.

Hans had expected the question for a long while... but he wasn't prepared for it.  For a long moment, he was silent, fumbling.  How would he have explained it to his sister?  "They took it," he said softly, a faint frown tugging at his lips.  It still hurt to think of it.  "It... didn't work anymore."

Although Hans might have shown remorse with such news, to a six year old, it was just another thing to deal with - and nothing was permanent when you're six. "Well, will it grow back? A new one?" asked Angelina nonchalantly, turning to snuggle into his empty left side.

"Nein, katzchen, not on its own."  However, if he was lucky--which he doubted he would be--it would be replaced.  Hans sighed softly, shaking his head a little.  He could only hope.

"Why do you sound so sad, Hans?" asked Angelina curiously, reaching up to touch his lips tenderly, to feel if he was smiling or frowning - and just to feel him. He was almost as soft as her own father, after they shaved him that morning, and she loved to run her fingertips over the smoothness of his cheek.

"I wish I had it back, katzchen... it doesn't feel right without it."  Hans sighed softly, turning his head a little to look at her.  She was so gentle, so kind, so accepting.  But why would she be anything else?  She was, after all, an angel, just as he name said.  "I can't hold you right anymore... I can't do things I used to, not like this."

"You can still hold me right, Hans," said the little girl innocently, and she put her arms around his middle, squeezing him tightly, "See? I can hold you, and I'll just help you hold me if you need it - since you helped me. It's only fair. And my father says you always need to be fair to people who are nice to you . . ."

"You're too kind, katzchen," he murmured softly, a small smile curling at the edges of his lips.  Allen and the others taught her well, that much was for sure.  No matter how spoiled she might be... she was still a good soul.

Angelina sighed, snuggling into Hans fondly. "How come walking makes me so tired?" she asked for the fifth time that hour, as if she kept forgetting her inquiry. It was still odd for her, to hardly be able to take a step without falling to the floor, where any one of her uncles or her father would have to pick her back up and carry her to where she wanted to go - which was usually outside, but only if Hans was willing to join her.

 Secretly, she wondered if what she felt was how her Uncle Gaddes felt. Father had told her that he was lazy and he got around different, sitting down all the time now - she wondered out loud, "Maybe I can get a chair like Uncle Gaddes'. Then I won't be so tired anymore . . ."

 Ah, to be an innocent child again . . .

"You'll be fine soon enough," he murmured... thankful that she changed the subject.  The talk of his arm always made him uncomfortable and most were tactful enough to avoid it.  To think of the young child in a wheelchair, however... it was rather horrific, really.  The imagery of it was startling.  "You won't need it after awhile."

"She should never have to need one," said Gaddes from the doorway of his room. He had placed Angelina upon his own bed after her exercise session with her father and Gunter, and for some reason, begrudgingly allowed Hans to lay down with her. He had only come in for a moment, to check if she was still asleep - when he came upon the last of their conversation.

 The thought of his daughter - using a chair like his own was simply frightening. She should never have to need one, already blind as she was. "I thought you might have been asleep, Angelina. You should rest," he told the girl, coming up next to her.

 "I am resting," she insisted softly, yawning and closing her eyes, "I just wanted to talk to Hans. Uncle Gaddes, when can I go outside to run again?" Gaddes looked at her for a long moment, the pain literally stinging his heart.

 "Very soon, my princess," he answered, "but don't think on that now. Just go to sleep." As if on cue, Angelina yawned again and buried her head into the pillow, just about ready to doze off.

Hans was silent... Gaddes was right, of course, and his thoughts mirrored Hans's own.  She should never have need of one or any other aids for any handicaps.  Though he did admit to himself that later she would likely need a cane of sorts.  She shouldn't have had to... she never should have been blind in the first place.  He waited until she fell asleep before he glanced over towards Gaddes.  He would leave if the man wished it.

But Gaddes did not ask Hans to leave - at least, not in the sense the Basram soldier might have been expecting, and surprised him when the sergeant said, "Will you follow me to the parlor? We need to talk."

Hans paused, then inclined his head in a nod.  He would not deny them after they had done so much for him.  Careful not to wake Angelina, he stood, still a little awkward without one of his arms, and followed the other man out and to the parlor.

As amiably as he could, Gaddes offered the seat upon the couch for Hans to make himself comfortable, with Gaddes simply adjusting his own chair, rolling in back and forth to properly face the man. Once Hans had taken a seat, the sergeant found it difficult to keep his gaze from the floor, or from his feet where they seemed so far away from him and detached.

 "I thought it was time that we . . . talked - you and me," he began quietly.

"Ja?"  Hans said softly, almost... hesitantly.  Would he be sent back to Basram?  Or simply pushed out of this home?  Hans didn't know what to expect.

"I know that we haven't really gotten along," said Gaddes, anxiously gripping the rims of his wheels, occasionally pushing himself back up into his chair when he'd begun to slouch and slip. He swallowed, hating feeling so strange and only really thinking about it when his mind wasn't occupied with being Allen's second in command.

 "I think . . . it's pretty obvious - that I know what you're going through."

Hans blinked a little, looking at Gaddes.  This, he hadn't expected.  "Ah... ja," he said softly, inclining his head a little.  He could tell Gaddes was anxious, nervous... he, himself, felt much the same way.  This talk had been a bit in coming, after all, he should have expected it.  But even if he did, it was hard to actually follow through with it.

Then Gaddes let out a nervous laugh, sort of a huff and chuckle of amusement while he turned his head away to look at anything in the room but Hans or himself. "I honestly can't think of anything to say," he managed with a slight grin, "it's - awkward. Being like this, isn't it?"

"Ah?"  The Basram was silent for a moment, slightly shocked, then nodded a little, even though Gaddes didn't see it.  He glanced at his own knees awkwardly.  "It... it is."  They were both soldiers at one time, so used to being mobile, useful, unhindered by injury.  And now... they were a pair of cripples.

It was such a sensitive subject, especially to the two of them - who have both so recently been debilitated, after being strong and fighting battles. But the war was over now, things have begun to settle down, and despite all the injured and maimed soldiers that resulted from the battles with Basram, so too should they settle down.

 It was a hard thing to accept, being discharged from the army he had grown so used to serving, but Gaddes had a family now - not the multitude of people he had back home, but his own family, a daughter and a partner to love. It was too soon, he thought, to accept retirement, to live out the rest of his days in seclusion. Too soon for being so young. He was still young, still had many years ahead of him - and Hans was even younger than he. Only nineteen.

 "We can't give up," he told Hans, finally looking him in the eyes and letting his thoughts speak for him, "Because we're both still young. You're nineteen. Soldier or not, you've got a lot of life left to live. And so do I. So do we all. Hell, Allen is younger than I am. We've got a lot left to do, you and I. And Angelina - loves you," he strained, blinking at the sudden sting in his eyes, "You know? You - need to take care of her after Allen and I are gone . . . and when she grows up."

Hans listened silently to the other man's words.  Gaddes was young... but he was still wise enough. "Which hopefully will be awhile," he said softly, shaking his head.  They were good people... the world needed more of them.  "I can't take care of her myself... at least not right now, after all.  I still have to get used to..."  He trailed off after a moment, shaking his head.  "I still have to get used to this." Angelina was precious to all of them.  She was a light in their otherwise rather dark lives.  The thought of losing her, of seeing her so close to death... well, they had all seen what it had done to him.  There was no denying that he would be good to her, that he was kind to her.

Gaddes let out another embittered huff, and he looked at Hans carefully then. "I'm still getting used to it," he told him.

"Ja..."  But Gaddes had a longer time of being a soldier, he had a longer time to adjust from.  Hans didn't think it would be an easy time for either of them, in fact, he knew it wouldn't be.

"The point of all of this," he said finally, "is that you've still got a chance. I know I won't walk again . . . but Zaibach offered their services to you - as a soldier of Asturia." Gaddes said the last quietly, most likely surprising the ex-Basram soldier, "So the Crusade leaves tomorrow morning to take you to one of their hospitals. We're all going. But . . . Allen insisted that I be the one to tell you."

Hans was silent for a long moment, looking at Gaddes.  It was shocking, really, and it did make things... better, easier.  And it certainly made it easier for Gaddes to speak to him about it.  After all... they were much the same in some aspects.  "Ah... dan--thank you."

"Don't thank me," said Gaddes honestly, maneuvering backwards to get around the coffee table, "You should be thanking Allen. He's the one that did the work - I'm just the messenger." Suddenly he got stuck, too distracted with his own embarrassment to gauge the correct distance away from the coffee table to move around it. Muttering curses under his breath, he pulled back and forth to try to free himself, but each time ended up stopping short. "Okay, this is ridiculous," giving up with a heavy sigh and leaning his elbows on his numb knees.

Hans stood quietly.  No, it was right to thank Gaddes for helping him, for telling him this, for... being courageous enough to do so. The young man walked over behind him, looping his one arm around his chest and tugging him back.  Gods... what a sight that would be, surely.  Ridiculous.  But it was something of a truce between them, really.  

"Tell me when it's enough, ja?"  It took a little bit of work to get a grip good enough to pull him away from the table, but Hans was stubborn about it.

Gaddes' front caster wheel pulled free with Hans' help, yanking out from where it got caught in a decorative groove of the coffee table leg. The arm that had snaked around his chest was soon removed, but Gaddes looked up at Hans - long enough to give him a grateful, yet thoroughly embarrassed smile. 

 "I guess I should be thanking you now, huh?" he quirked, looking around himself, at his wheels, then relenting, "Would you - mind so much? If you pushed me out?"

"We're even," he said softly, offering a little smile.  He didn't complain at the request... in fact, he was rather proud of it.  After all... it was like Gaddes was finally accepting him.  Hand braced at the back of the chair, he pushed with it, nudging it along with his hip.  It was a little odd at first... but he didn't mind.

~

 Gaddes was only partly accurate when it came to traveling directly to Zaibach to visit their hospitals. Allen did make arrangements for Hans to finally get his arm replaced, but he was still concerned for his own daughter's mobility. Her muscles were so weak that they could not support her properly, and had ended up spending many days in Gaddes' lap after she had awakened from her coma. 

 While the exercises that Gunter showed them helped somewhat, in that she was actually able to move her legs again, they did not help in regaining the strength to support her weight. Zaibach promised they would help, still within the last days of contract with the Allied Nations to help in the aftermath of the war. The procedure for Angelina was simple for the Zaibach doctors, attaching strange nodes to her thin little legs while she slept peacefully - electric stimulation, as it was explained to her fathers.

 While Angelina was being treated, Hans was fitted with a new prosthetic. Microsurgery, they called it, to fit the new limb to his shoulder. It was a newer model than what Gaddes and Allen remembered seeing on Folken's right side - not a hideous claw shaped hand, but just normal, rounded metal fingertips, and a function that allowed the limb to be detached at the shoulder. 

Hans was a little frightened of the idea of losing more of his arm to replace the entirety of it.  The lightweight metal plates were the same cold grey that everything about Zaibach seemed to be, carefully covering the wires that were hidden within.  It had been attached to his shoulder in a painful process that was done while he was under a heavy curtain of painkillers that settled him to sleep.  The arm was detachable, but, like the attaching of it the first time, it would be painful with the pieces locking into place against his flesh.  

 Even the Basram was astonished at how much like a normal arm it functioned.  The weight of it was odd and unfamiliar, a little clumsy at first.  But, with the Zaibach doctors' help, he was slowly becoming much more efficient with it.  Gunter was at his side as usual, aiding him with what he could.  When he was released, proclaimed fit to work it on his own, he was offered a pair of gloves by Allen.  Not to protect his hands, no... but to guard the silver digits from view if he so wished.  

 Hans was grateful for it.  While, yes, he would have to deal with the ugly, cold, inhuman color of it, he could at least hide it from others' view.

While Hans recovered, so did Angelina - though hers was a little bit faster than Hans'. The look of absolute joy on Gaddes' face when Angelina came out of her room, running up to him - it was indescribable. Her recovery wasn't really a recovery - more of a learning process that she needed to go through as she was quickly growing up. Zaibach had given her a white metal cane.

Oh, she was very excited about it, proclaiming that she could now get around by herself - though the doctor had come out with her hands behind her back and a very glad, repressed smile on her lips. Dr. Bethesda Zimmerman was more than happy to see the girl up and about again. 

 "I thought you would want her to start learning to get around properly," she said to Allen and Gaddes as the girl was being given lessons with her new cane in a large room.

"Yes... yes, it would be good that she learns now.  I'm sure it would be harder for her when she was older," he said softly, speaking from his own experience.  Of course, part of his problem with it was his own stubbornness.  He inclined his head a little, a small smile on his lips as he watched his daughter.  It was wonderful, really, for her to be able to walk again, her way of easily bouncing back from a problem... it was reassuring.

"She's very quick on her feet," remarked Dr. Zimmerman with a smile, looking down at Gaddes and receiving a smile in return. She then turned to Allen, her face somewhat somber, her brow slightly furrowed. "Sir Schezar, I was wondering if I might have a word with you? Privately?"

Allen blinked a little, arching a brow... then nodded.  He squeezed Gaddes' shoulder, gently, then walked quietly over to her.  "Of course you may, doctor."  

Dr. Zimmerman led him to a corner of the room, still watching Angelina as she swept her cane before her excitedly to find obstacles with a nurse beside her and her uncle near her, watching as well. The doctor settled down into a chair, and motioned that Allen should do the same while she opened the little girl's health chart.

 "It's nothing really to worry about - but we found something about Angelina," said Dr. Zimmerman carefully, "Her cell structure - her DNA. Sir Schezar, who was your daughter's mother?"

Allen sighed softly, bowing his head a little.  No one had questioned before, no one had said anything.  But they couldn't keep that hidden forever.  Surely the doctor didn't even need to ask, if she had already suspected something because of it.  

"She is purely my family's daughter," he said simply, his voice soft.  It would be hard to explain the circumstances if they needed to be so.  Celena and he had been so much more than siblings, even before their relationship.  They hadn't grown up around each other, didn't know each other's faces the same way they might have otherwise.

Dr. Zimmerman pursed her lips, suspecting that the saddened man before her felt extremely guilty for fathering a child through incest. But the news she had was not bad, nor did she intend to admonish him for something that was none of her personal concern. Rather, "We've found some rather remarkable things about her, Sir Allen, due to your . . . decision to have her with . . . family? Uh - your sister, I'm guessing?"

"Yes, Celena was my sister."  Allen looked at her.  He did feel guilty for it, though he had loved Celena, because of their coupling she had turned out blind.  "But... remarkable, how so?"  The blonde quirked a brow, slightly surprised.

"Sir Schezar, I must be quite frank with you," said Bethesda, looking Allen directly into his eyes so that she might impress upon him her astonishment, "You daughter was not only conceived through incest, something which most children born from such relationships wouldn't survive, let alone come out normal enough to live with brain damage - but she has a miraculous constitution. Tell me, Sir Schezar - has she ever gotten sick? A cold? A fever?"

"Ah?  Not... that I recall, really."  Allen pursed his lips slightly, thinking back.  Now that it was brought to his attention... she hadn't as far as he could remember.  He had known of the risks of having children through incest, knew of the low survival rate, the horrid disabilities... of which, she had come out with one.

"So - the only thing really wrong with her is her sight. She has none. Underdeveloped optic nerves to the point of being nonexistent. Yet she is extremely intelligent, clever, resilient with gunshot wounds, asphyxiation, coma, and strength," said the amazed doctor, taking Allen's hand in her vehemence and excitement, "Do you have any idea what that means?"

"That... she's a blessing?"  Ha-ha... they had named her correctly.  Not just a blessing.  She was amazing.  He'd always known she was a cut above most children her age.  She learned things so quickly, she asked things that most children wouldn't, she was utterly curious.  

"She's more than that," said Dr. Zimmerman strongly, searching Allen's face and squeezing his hand, "She is phenomenal. A miracle. By the gods, Sir Allen - please continue raising her with nothing but the best of quality and care."

Allen smiled softly, nodding to her.  "I wouldn't do anything but," he said softly.  As any other good parent would be at such praise of their child, he was... ecstatic.  Not only had she simply brushed aside what he'd expected to be coming at his incestuous relationship, but she was completely praising the girl.

"Father!" called Angelina, having been given praise by the nurse that was teaching her how to use her cane and was suddenly bouncing on her feet excitedly, "Father, where are you?" Gaddes could only look over to Allen with a wide smile, leaning his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand.

Allen glanced over, then back at the doctor, grinning and nodding to her.  "Excuse me," he murmured, standing and padding over to the girl's side, crouching down hear her and ruffling her curls.  "Right here, princess, I'm right here.  What's that you've got there?"  Oh, he knew well enough... but he simply beamed.  Obviously what he'd been told was good news.

Angelina twirled dramatically and presented the cane before her, "My super duper tool of perimeter exploration!" she said, frowning before turning her head slightly to the nurse, "Wait - did I say that right? Let me try again . . ." she cleared her throat, "My new industrial strength radar and search device. Three hundred uses in one." She giggled.

Allen chuckled, leaning forward and kissing her forehead.  "Wonderful.  So you're all grown up now, aren't you, mm?"  She could move about on her own to a certain degree... but that didn't mean Allen wouldn't be paranoid about it.  He'd still have someone near her for awhile, of course.  

Angelina nodded happily, keeping her cane in front of her in the idle position she was shown when she wasn't walking. "Dr. Zimmerman said I can go home today. And I want to, father - to try out my new toy. Did he grow back his arm? Is Hans better now? "

"Ah... he should be."

 "Ja, Katzchen," he said softly from the doorway, the grey metal covered by the long sleeves he wore, the gloves.  It looked... normal, really.  "It's back."  Different, she would later learn, but it was there nonetheless.

"Hans!" she said happily, forgetting her cane in her hand and running over to where she heard Hans' voice. Gaddes carefully caught her before she ran straight into his wheel, cuddling her for a second and giving her a kiss.

 "Careful, princess!" he said delightedly, "Remember your cane now." Angelina blushed as she was set down, using her cane as she was shown to make sure there were no more obstructions within the room.

 "Hans?" she said calmly, though she could hardly suppress her smile as she reached out her hand to him.

Hans crouched down to her height, reaching out to ruffle her hair with now gloved hands.  "Ja, careful, Katzchen," he murmured, a small smile curling on his lips.  "I can wait a little longer if it means you being safer."  Allen watched the pair of them interact.  They were fond of one another... they owed each other so much, after all.

"No, no, no!" insisted the adorable little girl, throwing herself onto Hans' large chested, broad-shouldered frame and nuzzling him affectionately, "I want to go home, now, and marry you."

Hans laughed a little.  "Nein... not yet, katzchen, not yet.  Let you grow a little taller, eh?"  He patted her lightly, affectionately on the head, long hair draping over his shoulders.

~

 The sun was setting, the light becoming a fiery orange and red that streaked across the horizon, over to the west. In the east, where it was darker, stars had already begun to appear. Though all of this went unnoticed by Angelina, who stood near the lemon tree behind her family's manor, pacing carefully while emitting confident, "One, two, three, four, five . . ." in her small little voice, back and forth from the lemon to the oak, around the hill with her new cane.

 In the middle, she stopped, turning and lifting her cane like a baton, "Company! Halt!" she said shrilly, though she was clearly trying to mock her father - somewhat seriously, "You're all good men! You will fight like men! For Honor! For Glory! For Chivalry! I am the greatest Knight Caeli . . . All of you will . . . wait, that's not right . . ."

Hans was settled beside the lemon tree, watching her, a smile on his lips.  Had Allen been out there, the scene would have been amusing up to a point.  He was still distressed over the knighthood disbanding... and he had a mind to confront Millerna about it, as well.  There was no excuse for it, he believed.  There were men worthy of the knighthood out there somewhere, it was simply a matter of looking for them.

 A soft chuckle rumbled quietly in his throat as he watched her.  It was... charming, to say the least.

She pursed her lips, scrunching her nose as she tried to remember which way she was facing to get back to the lemon tree. A little blush reached her porcelain cheeks. "Hans!" called Angelina from the middle of the hill into the air, "Tell me where you are. I lost my concentration."

"Right over here, katzchen," he said softly, watching her.  She was cute, absolutely adorable.  And it was amazing, really, that anyone could bring a smile to his lips as it had been there before, especially after everything that had happened.  But if anyone was able to, it would have been her.

Angelina turned immediately to his voice, using her cane carefully in front of her and made her way to the lemon. She didn't really need it out on the hill, but her fathers insisted that she use it often to get used to it. The tip of her cane gently tapped against Hans' boot, by which she instantly went down on her hands and knees and crawled into his lap, the cane forgotten in the grass.

"I want to be a Caeli Knight like my father," she told Hans, her little arms hugging him around his strong chest and her cheek pressing against the muscle.

"Mm," he murmured, his real arm draped around her.  Even though the other limb worked fine enough and he was grateful for it... it was like he was wary of touching her with it.  "You'll be in danger, katzchen... Allen, Gaddes... and I won't like it, either.  We don't want anything to happen to you."

"But, being a knight means protecting people you love," she argued softly, her little hand reaching up to Hans' face and tracing the curves of his jaw line habitually, "My father is my knight. You're my knight. I want to be a knight for you, Hans. I love you and I want to protect you too."

"It's alright, katzchen... you're a princess, an angel.  You do enough even without becoming a knight."  He brushed his lips against her forehead gently, a small smile lingering on his lips.  "You do more than you know for all of us."

In that moment, it seemed that if people could see each other's hearts, anyone witnessing the Basram soldier and the six year old girl in his lap would see that theirs was one, forged in flames more sacred than that of any blacksmith's fire. The silver of Angelina's hair glowed softly in the dimming twilight of the Gaean sky, mixed with Hans' golden locks as they cascaded over her curls while he embraced her gently . . .

The golden knight and the silver princess is what they were soon to be known as, who held love for each other beyond any fairy tale to describe.

"You'll keep your promise, won't you, Hans?" whispered Angelina thoughtfully, "You'll marry me when I grow up?"

"Of course, katzchen.  I'd be more than honored to.."  She was a child but she was different from others.  Not because of his disability, but because of how much more advanced she was.  She had experienced things none others had, she had those around her that were as courageous, loving, as blessed as any others.  She was a miracle, an angel as her name bespoke of her.

Hans tugged her closer into a hug, closing his eyes.  He did it many times, to see the world as she saw it.  Utter darkness.  At times, it would be frightening, with them at each other's sides, there was no shadow... simply a light between them as bright, brilliant as any other.

**The End**


End file.
